Mend on Wednesday
by Once Upon a Whim
Summary: There are times in your life when things need fixing. But sometimes… Sometimes things fix themselves while you’re not even watching.
1. Prologue: Wednesday, January 17, 2007

**Mend on Wednesday **

_There are times in your life when things need fixing. But sometimes… Sometimes things fix themselves while you're not even watching._

Written for the (Smut)Ficathon for _cassievalentine_. Actual requests will come at the end of the last chapter.

Thanks to llano for the beta :)

_Ma used to say: _

"Wash on Monday,  
Iron on Tuesday,  
Mend on Wednesday,  
Churn on Thursday,  
Clean on Friday,  
Bake on Saturday,  
Rest on Sunday."

Laura Ingalls Wilder,  
Little House in the Big Woods

**January 17, 2007**

Paul Anka was running. He was running as fast as his furry little legs could carry him, and he was loving every second of it.

There was snow!

It hadn't snowed for so long this winter, and now it finally had, and Paul Anka got to run in it! He got to run and roll and frolic and it was so much fun to do it without a stupid leash on!

Oh wait… He _always_ had a leash on. He hated having it put on, but Mom always made sure to sneak up on him and get it on his collar somehow.

So why wasn't his leash on this time?

Paul Anka slowed slightly, his little doggie head tilting in confusion. No leash. So if no leash… He looked over his shoulder.

Uh oh. No leash meant no Mom either. And no Mom when Paul Anka was outside the house meant Mom was going to be mad at him. The last time he got out, Mom and the mean man with the sweater vest had yelled at him for digging up some flowers. Well, Mom had yelled at first, but back at home she'd just laughed and given him a cookie. But still, since then, Mom always made sure that any time he got past the front door, he had a leash on.

Yup, Mom was going to be reeeally mad.

Paul Anka's doggy brain didn't dwell on that fact very long, however — he was running! And there was snow! He could deal with Mom later.

So Paul Anka kept right on running, dashing from snowbank to snowbank all around Stars Hollow. Across lawns and through bushes and over streams and around trees. He just ran and ran and rolled around and had a blast doing it.

The only problem with this was that Paul Anka didn't get out much. It was that whole leash requirement thing. And Mom wasn't much of a walker either, so even when he was on a leash, they never really got very far. So that meant that pretty quickly, Paul Anka had no idea where he was.

Paul Anka finally slowed down. Yup, he was definitely in a place that he didn't recognize. And Mom was definitely nowhere to be seen. Oops. Plus, now that he was only walking, the erstwhile super-fun snow was starting to feel kind of chilly on his little paws. Snow'll do that. To keep warm, Paul Anka picked up the pace a little again, but he made sure to shake his fur out of his eyes once in a while so he could see if there was anything familiar around.

Pretty soon Paul Anka was past a lot of the trees and bushes he'd found himself in and was back amongst lots of houses with pretty, snowy yards. He could hear more cars too. And wait, wait…

What was that? It wasn't a sight Paul Anka recognized, but a smell. He'd smelled that smell before for sure. And he knew Mom liked the smell too. Perfect.

Mustering up what canine instinct he could, Paul Anka followed that smell, and sure enough, he soon found himself recognizing things around him. Not stuff he saw a lot, so he didn't think he was getting any closer to Mom, but…

There! Paul Anka gave a little shake of doggy glee and scampered a little faster. It was Dad! He could see him through the window, and it definitely smelled good in that direction. That was the smell! It was the stuff in the cup that Dad used to give Mom all the time.

That solved everything! Paul Anka was quite proud of himself for finding Dad's place. He scurried across the street quickly; he would go see Dad and Mom would surely find him there!

Oh, but… Come to think of it, Paul Anka actually couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Dad, never mind Mom _with_ Dad. Actually, the only person he'd really seen with Mom at all lately was that guy who kept taking his spot on the couch.

Why hadn't Dad been around for so long now? And what was the deal with Couch Guy? Just because he didn't have to go to the Inn like Mom or get early deliveries like Dad it meant he could just sit there in Paul Anka's spot on the couch and watch TV all day? Paul Anka certainly didn't think so, but apparently Annoying Couch Guy did.

Plus Annoying Couch Guy didn't even smell good. He smelled like that fancy little bottle on the dresser in Mom's room that Annoying Couch Guy had claimed as his own. Paul Anka had knocked it over once, and both Mom and Couch Guy had yelled at him. Mom had yelled because it was 'expensive,' whatever that meant. Couch Guy just yelled because he didn't want Paul Anka in the room. Whatever. Couch Guy smelled so weird that Paul Anka didn't want to be in the room when he was around.

Dad always used to smell like food. Meat. Hamburgers, actually. And Mom and Couch Guy never cooked anything. Dad always made him perfect hamburgers when he came home. And that always made Mom happy. She'd just laugh and smile while Dad cooked Paul Anka's burger. With Couch Guy around, she never seemed that happy anymore.

Huh. Yeah, come to think of it, Paul Anka really didn't like Couch Guy much at all. Things were much better when Dad was around more.

And Sugar Toes too. Haven't seen much of her lately either. Sure, she does come to see Paul Anka sometimes, but even when she's there, the Evil Tail-Pulling Monster is still there, living in Sugar Toes' room. Ok, so the Monster wasn't quite as evil anymore as the first time Paul Anka encountered her, but he'd certainly still prefer to have Dad and Sugar Toes around.

Well, that just sealed the deal. Since he had no idea where Mom was, or where _he_ was, actually, other than the fact that Dad was over there, just inside the windows in the place that smelled good, Paul Anka was just going to have to use the situation to his advantage. He was going to go have a serious talk with Dad. There were some things that needed to be worked out.

He could deal with Mom and the leash thing later.

**To be continued…**


	2. Wednesday, January 17, 2007

**Thanks everyone, so much, for all the reviews. I was afraid I'd keep people away when I used Paul Anka as the voice behind the prologue, so thanks for proving me wrong :) **

And thanks to _llano_ for helping out again.

* * *

January 17, 2007

"Luke!"

Luke's jaw tightened involuntarily as he braced for whatever else would be coming in Babette's piercing, raspy voice. Kirk had already been bothering him, about bagels — yet again — all morning; the last thing he needed to hear was whatever inane point Babette was going to toss out there.

"Ain't that little Paul Anka out there," Babette hollered, "Lorelai's dog? These contacts, I tell ya, I can't see nothin' right!"

"What?" The word slipped involuntarily from Luke's mouth, his confusion over such an apparent non-sequitur reigning over his normal stoic front. The generally tactless busybodies of Stars Hollow had been unexpectedly careful in avoiding mention of Lorelai around him for nearly eight months now, so the sudden deviation from the norm threw him a little.

Gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb, Babette rasped an elaboration, "Out there, just sittin' in the snow, the poor thing."

Luke's eyes followed Babette's indication, coming to rest on the shaggy visitor just outside the diner window. He hadn't seen Paul Anka in months, but it sure as hell looked like the mess of white and gray that he remembered. And judging by what Luke could swear was a tail wag of recognition upon meeting the dog's gaze, it was more than likely the one and only Dog Paul Anka.

Apparently seeing that recognition mirrored in Luke's face, Babette inquired loudly, "Want me to go get him?"

"No," Luke sighed wearily, "I got it." The last thing he really wanted to deal with was the grand production it would turn into if Babette went out to get the dog, cutesy voices and everything. It was just easier to deal with it himself. Setting down the two plates he'd been carrying, Luke quickly wiped his hands and ducked out of the diner into the snow.

Wincing as the cold pierced his well-worn flannel shirt, Luke shielded his eyes from the blowing snow and regarded Paul Anka. No leash to be seen, either on the dog, or abandoned anywhere else that Luke could discern. He quickly scanned the streets and the square, sure that he'd see Lorelai, absent leash in hand, trotting after the dog in footwear entirely inappropriate for both dog walking and winter in New England.

But even after waiting there in the biting wind for a few moments, she was nowhere to be seen. It struck Luke as odd, seeing as how fervent Lorelai's adoration for the mutt was. Since she'd gotten the damn dog, he didn't think he'd seen Paul Anka this far from the house without Lorelai. Surely she'd be just behind him, he surmised.

However, Luke was not about to stand around outside in January waiting for that theory to be proven. Nor, he supposed could he really let the stupid dog sit outside alone any longer. It would just end up running away, if it didn't freeze to death first.

Eyeing the dog — who had yet to make any motion toward him — warily, shaking his head slightly as himself. Leave it to Luke Danes to be freezing his ass off in the snow, trying to take care of Lorelai's stupid dog. It was one thing when it was his chocolate that had damn near killed the thing; at least he and Lorelai been together then. Now? Now the dog was out in the cold, arguably in danger, more than likely as a result of Lorelai's carelessness. She'd probably just left the door open or something, Luke glowered inwardly, growing ever more annoyed and aggravated by the situation. She'd probably been too busy playing happy family with that asshole and his kid to even notice that her once-prized dog had run out the door on his own.

"You coming?" Luke snapped, directing at Paul Anka the sudden rush of anger he felt.

Paul Anka, however, was unperturbed, merely lifting a paw in Luke's direction.

Another sigh on Luke's part, and a few muttered expletives were enough to cover the three short strides it took to reach Paul Anka. "Ridiculous," Luke huffed, leaning down to scoop up the dog, "Ridiculous."

The pair was back in the diner in no time, and Luke made sure to send menacing glares in the direction of Babette, Kirk, and anyone else who dared make eye contact with him. Though he hadn't asked for the unofficial moratorium on all speak of Lorelai in the diner, he'd come to appreciate it and didn't exactly want the damn dog to be the cause of its undoing.

All the while mentally cursing his ex-fiancée's lapse in canine care, Luke ascended the stairs to his apartment, setting Paul Anka down on the floor in the kitchen. As much as he may have wanted to then just leave the dog sitting there, call Lorelai and just get the whole thing over with, Paul Anka just looked so pathetic, shivering and damp, the snow matted to his fur falling off and creating little puddles around his paws, that even Luke couldn't just ignore him. So he grabbed one of his older towels from the linen closet and began drying the dog off. Not as gently as he could have, but he took care of him nonetheless, and even began eyeing his refrigerator, thinking Paul Anka could be hungry, wondering if he had any eggs up there so scramble up for him.

That is, until his feeble attempts to get all the snow from Paul Anka's tangled coat were interrupted by a sudden clattering of silverware downstairs, a few unintelligible shouts from Babette, and a general buzz of sudden commotion.

Paul Anka would have to wait, Luke's instinct determined. Abandoning both the dog and his intentions of calling Lorelai immediately, he quickly dashed back downstairs.

* * *

It was a number of hours later when Luke, still downstairs, finally remembered that he had a furry guest in his apartment; it was only when he caught a glimpse of a Lorelai-shaped blur dashing past the diner windows that he remembered he was to have called her a long time ago. 

Dropping the rag he'd been using to wipe up a small spill at the counter, Luke rushed outside, calling out the name he now rarely uttered, once so integral to his vocabulary. "Lorelai!" he shouted into the wind, "Lorelai!"

She heard him on the second yell; he knew immediately. For as long as it had been since they were much of anything to each other, Luke could still see the discomfort taking over her body as she realized that it was him calling out to her. He saw her tense, her hurried pace slowing as she physically prepared herself for the confrontation to follow. To be honest, Luke wouldn't have expected any less; given that this would be barely more than the fifth time they'd been near each other since the horrible, horrible argument — in pretty much the exact same spot to boot — that had sent both their worlds tumbling off axis, he wasn't exactly looking forward to dealing with her either. Apparently the discomfort was greater on her part, however. Not even turning around to face him, she stumbled over the reason for her rush, picking her pace back up even as she spoke. "Luke, I- I can't. I have to find Paul Anka!"

And she was off and running. Literally. Which, considering the fact that Paul Anka was upstairs and she certainly wasn't going to find him anywhere she looked outside, served only to revive in Luke the simmering feelings of unwarranted animosity upon discovering the stupid dog unsupervised in the first place.

"Lorelai!" he bellowed again.

Not even bothering to face him as she brushed him off, Lorelai spluttered over the beginnings of her weak, albeit valid, excuse. "I have to-"

Simmering, Luke was fed up with Lorelai's evasion techniques. To be honest, he was fed up with himself for this sudden rush of irrational anger towards her, but that was neither here nor there; he was still rather exasperated with her. "I have him!" he shouted, "Lorelai, he's here!

Lorelai froze immediately, stammering, "He- You what?"

In spite of himself, Luke had to crack a grin at her response. For all her resolve to avoid him, he'd still gotten the upper hand. Thanks to the stupid dog. With a smug smirk still visible on his face, he explained rather nonchalantly, "Paul Anka. He's upstairs."

"You have…" Lorelai's jaw dropped in surprise. "He's ok?"

Luke nodded, purposefully reserved lest he appear any more invested in the exchange that he should have been as a slightly embittered ex-fiancé. "He's fine," he added curtly, forcing the slight grin from his face.

And suddenly, despite those efforts to remain emotionally detached, he found himself swept up in a whirlwind of Lorelai, ambushed by the scents of vanilla body lotion, apple shower gel, lavender-and-something perfume, 'especially-for-kinda-curly-hair' shampoo and conditioner, masqueraded-by-altoids coffee breath — that combination so uniquely _her_ — as Lorelai threw herself at him in an embrace of gratitude. "Oh my God," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck, "Thank you!"

Rattled by the sudden physical contact — after _months_ of none — Luke stiffened in her embrace. "He's up-" he stammered, brusquely placing his hands on Lorelai's hips and pushing her away. Not able to bring himself to look at her, he dropped his gaze to the snow dampening his jeans around the ankles. "Go up," he ordered lamely.

If Lorelai was at all shaken by the confrontation, Luke couldn't tell. Without another glance in his direction, she dashed away from him immediately, racing into the diner and up the stairs, calling out for the dog. "Paul Anka? Paul Anka, Mommy's here…" Her voice rang out through the diner below, eliciting more than one questioning stare at Luke from customers when he emerged in from the snow. He ignored them, following behind Lorelai, taking the stairs two at a time.

He reached the apartment just in time to find Lorelai zeroing in on Paul Anka cowering in a corner. "Oh, hey you, there you are," she squealed, throwing herself on the floor next to the mutt, "Hey you." Pulling the dog onto her lap, cuddling him to her, she murmured into Paul Anka's fur. "Don't you ever run away from me like that again, you. Ok? Ok? You scared me." Luke could just barely make out the words as she spoke softly, but he recognized the tearful hitch in her voice.

For seconds, minutes — he didn't actually know how long — Luke just stood there. What else could he do? The lingering anger over Lorelai's irresponsibility in letting Paul Anka get out faded, only to be replaced by a soft, dull ache in his chest as he watched her sniffle into the dog's shaggy coat. He wanted so much to be able to sweep her up and reassure her that the dog was fine, she was fine, _they_ were fine.

But that was hardly the case, now was it, he forced himself to remember. He no longer had that right. She had another man's ring on her finger, and he no longer had a place in her life. At least until her stupid dog found itself outside his diner.

The complex interplay of bitter animosity, ghosts of affection that he'd long since tried to bury, and the residual shock from Lorelai's overzealous embrace of gratitude on the street left Luke at a loss for exactly what to do or say. In the few short moments she'd been there, she'd managed to make him feel an intruder in his own apartment, no longer privy to her life.

So there he stood, his hands shoved in his pockets, mute as he watched Lorelai rock Paul Anka with an emotional zeal he hadn't really expected, and to be honest, was a little baffled by.

Still she said nothing. Didn't even acknowledge that he was there at all.

When Luke could stand it no longer, he took a few hesitant steps forward. Leaning awkwardly down in Lorelai's direction he repeated his words from down on the street — the only reassurance he felt comfortable in offering. "Hey, he's fine. He's okay."

Finally seeming to zero back in on the fact that she wasn't alone, Lorelai tilted her head up to face him, staring wide-eyed as if she'd never seen him before.

With nothing to feed off from her, Luke stammered, words falling rather ineloquently from his mouth. "It's getting kind of late, so he might be hungry," he blurted out, "I was going to try and get him some scrambled eggs earlier, since I know he likes those-"

"Earlier?" Lorelai's sudden inquiry startled Luke, even more so when she continued with a rather accusing tone, "How long has he been here?"

Floundering, Luke searched for words. "Uh, I don't know," he shrugged. And annoyed at the apologetic sound his voice had taken on, he added vaguely, disinterestedly, "A couple hours maybe?"

Practically shoving Paul Anka off her lap, Lorelai sprang to life, "A couple hours?" She scrambled to her feet, yelping, "You had him all this time and you didn't think you should let me know? I've been looking all over the place for him!"

"Hey!" Luke cried in his own defense, "I was going to! Of _course_ I was going to," he snarled, sick of letting her still get to him. "I was going to call you right away, but I barely had time to even get him up here. Lane went into labor today," he explained, adding sardonically, "so things were a _little_ hectic."

Lorelai's face softened immediately, and her eyes lit up with excitement. "Aw, she did?"

"Yeah, her water broke," Luke confirmed gruffly, "but the C-section wasn't supposed to be until next week, so we had to deal with stuff downstairs." Gesturing to Paul Anka, who was still sitting patiently where Lorelai had dumped him, shrugged, "I figured at least he was safe up here."

"Right. Yeah. Good," Lorelai smiled sheepishly. With a roll of her eyes, she threw in a good-natured jab, "Never mind that I was having a heart attack…" Her voice faded when Luke met her eyes; he figured his expression alone was enough to remind her that that kind of good-natured jab didn't exactly belong in their relationship any longer.

When her gaze dropped remorsefully to the floor, it was all Luke could do to fight off his instinctual damage control mode. Once again, he fought the onslaught of different emotions he was feeling as settled on a perfunctory apology. "I'm sorry," he declared stoically, "I actually figured you didn't even know he was out. I thought the only way he'd be on his own was if he just got out of the house himself."

After intentionally keeping his words as reserved as possible, Luke was surprised to see Lorelai grow even more squirmy. He saw her tense and shift on her feet as her gaze darted about the room. "No, I was home, he…" Tucking her hair behind her ears nervously, she spat an explanation in a manner not unlike ripping off a Band-Aid quickly. "Uh, I was getting ready to take him for a walk anyway and, um, Chris was leaving to get Gigi at school. He grabbed this one toy that makes noise and freaked Paul Anka out, so he took off out the front door when it was open. I've been looking for him for hours."

Of course. The asshole. That explained Lorelai's abrupt demeanor shift, Luke glowered inwardly. Wouldn't want to hurt poor Luke's feelings… Despite himself, Luke's curiosity got the best of him. Well, that and his overwhelming disdain for all things Christopher. "He didn't help look?" he demanded, his face twisting in disgust.

Lorelai offered lamely, "He had to get Gigi…"

"And after?" Luke prodded accusingly.

Luke could sense Lorelai's defenses rising as she replied, rather indignantly, "They're at his Mom's place for dinner. Their version of Friday night dinner."

That surprised Luke. The fact that Lorelai wasn't at the dinner, anyway. Once upon a time, he himself had fully expected to be roped into every weekly Gilmore dinner once they got married. "How'd you get out of that?" he questioned, sincerely wondering how a similar fate could be escaped when it was _two_ Hartford elite families and not just one.

"I don't go on Wednesdays," Lorelai sighed. Obviously a well-worn subject for her, she lay off the snippiness and just shrugged in defeat, "Francine never liked me much, and I have to say the feeling is mutual."

"Even though you two…" The beginning of the question slipped from Luke's mouth before he even realized he'd never be able to bring himself to speak the words to finish it.

Lorelai nodded. "Yeah," she confirmed darkly, staring off into space, "Even though."

Luke had no reply for that; what could one say at the first inkling that maybe your ex-fiancée's present marriage was just a teensy bit less happily-ever-after-fairytale than it was supposed to have been?

It was Lorelai who finally broke the awkward silence, muttering softly as she beckoned Paul Anka over to her. "God, I can't believe you had him," she mused aloud. Looking back up at Luke as she crouched down to scratch the dog's head, she spoke, her eyes wide and earnest, "Thank you so much, Luke."

As always, never completely comfortable receiving praise, Luke shrugged bashfully. "No problem," he replied. "He just showed up outside, and when I didn't see you, I figured I'd go get him. Then Lane…" Luke trailed off, interrupted by what sounded like a soft sniffle from down near the floor. He peered down at Lorelai and immediately recognized the slight shudder of her back as she buried her face in Paul Anka's fur to be her feeble attempt at not letting him see that she was crying again.

His first instinct, again, was to envelop her in his arms and just hold her until those tears faded. Again, no longer an option. But short of that, Luke had no idea how to proceed. Even before — _before_ before - that was the modus operandi. But now? Now what? As much as he may have wanted to be immune to those tears, it was Lorelai. No matter what happened, no matter how much he wanted to hate her and what had happened, she was still Lorelai.

He took a slight step in her direction, reaching one arm towards her, but balked, his hand lingering in mid-air. Quickly shoving the wayward hand into his pocket, he ventured a cautious "You ok?" instead.

Apparently startled by the sudden concern in Luke's voice, Lorelai jumped and sniffled loudly as she turned back around, furiously wiping her eyes before fully facing him. "Yeah, I just…" She choked on her words, more tears escaping as she bit her lip. "I thought I lost him, I…"

Her words dissolved into silence as Luke looked on helplessly, baffled. He'd expected her to be happy to see the stupid dog, not practically have a breakdown in the middle of his apartment floor. When she'd gotten overly emotional last year over Paul Anka's  
'shoe-moving' ailment, Luke had known it was 90 Rory and only 10 dog that had brought on the tears. But now? Now he knew nothing, and it was making him damn uncomfortable.

All Luke could do this time could do was try to somehow get the 'conversation', as it were, moving again. He opted for awkwardly stating the obvious, "He's ok..."

"I know, I know, I…" Lorelai replied hurriedly, brushing away her tears. She pulled herself to her feet and, looking rather sheepish, said quietly, "Thank you."

A feeling of unease settled over Luke when, upon speaking those words, Lorelai's gaze met his. He couldn't say 'You're welcome.' She _wasn't_ welcome to pull this anymore. He couldn't come to the rescue anymore; it was too hard. In the short span of time since finding that ridiculous dog downstairs, and especially since catching that glimpse of Lorelai running by not ten minutes ago, he'd been sent through the emotional wringer. He couldn't make sense of up from down, had no idea where he stood in the internal battle between spiteful hatred over what she'd done in sleeping with that asshole and the devotion he'd always felt simply because she was Lorelai.

So he said nothing.

It must have readily become apparent to Lorelai that he wasn't planning on saying anything. He saw her face fall slightly; her gaze dropped from his not long after. In a sudden flurry of activity, she was readjusting her coat, corralling Paul Anka, and gesturing to the door with a vaguely miffed-sounding "I should…"

Luke wasn't one to protest her leaving, but seeing the befuddled look on her face as she paused by the door, likely debating how to get Paul Anka home without the leash she hadn't had the foresight to bring, he sighed. "Wait. I'll drive you home," he offered, exasperation tingeing his voice only slightly. He managed to convince himself it was actually an act of self-preservation lest the dog get away during his short walk home with Lorelai and end up at the diner again, starting the whole vicious cycle over again.

"You don't have to-" Lorelai protested immediately.

"Or you want coffee?" Luke interrupted, though where this particular offer had come from, he had no idea. But still the words kept coming, "You're freezing. Calm down, warm up, and I'll drive you both home."

Given that even Luke himself had no idea where the offer had stemmed from, he could understand Lorelai's reaction. He could tell she tried to hide it, but there was no masking her surprise when her voice jumped an octave to utter a shaky "Really?"

Luke couldn't exactly rescind, so he simply shrugged. "Why not?"

"You sure?" Lorelai asked once more, her eyebrows raised in skepticism.

Already heading for the closet in which he'd tossed the coffeemaker he'd kept in his kitchen for the tenure of their relationship, Luke pulled a chair from the table as he passed by. "Sit," he instructed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lorelai pause and watch in wonder as Paul Anka took the command to heart and plopped his rear end down on the floor. Only then did she make her way cautiously to the table. Sitting stiffly, she offered a feeble "Thanks" when Luke passed by, Mr. Coffee in hand.

Luke didn't know any better than Lorelai how to proceed with what was shaping up to be painfully awkward conversation. More painful for him, even, as it was his sudden attempt at polite hospitality that had kept her in his apartment this long in the first place. He was at a loss for what had compelled him to ask her to stay; it certainly wasn't because he was feeling all warm and fuzzy. So instead of replying to Lorelai's meek display of gratitude, he languished in the verbal chasm between them and stoically went about preparing the coffee.

He startled a few moments later when Lorelai finally spoke up. "It looks…" she began.

Placing the pot in the path of the drip, Luke, curious as to why she'd trailed off, turned around to find her scanning the room, taking in the array Target stuff April had scattered around the apartment.

Another moment and Lorelai finished her thought, sounding ever-so careful to keep any sort of emotion from her words: "…colorful… in here."

"April's doing," Luke explained, matching Lorelai's cautiously even tone.

That, of course, threatened to bring the conversation back to a stand-still, Lorelai uttering a single, dull "Oh" of realization as she glanced around the room again, wringing her hands together nervously.

The silence hung in the air just a breath too long for Luke to stand anymore, so gathering what composure he could, he cleared his throat. "Yeah, she, uh," he forced out, "had to stay here for a while, so we went 'shopping.'" He involuntarily added a bit of wry emphasis on his last word; a move which helped more than he might have thought it would.

Once he'd spoken in that mildly sarcastic tone, that one that would have begged for air quotes if it had been the other party in the room using it, Lorelai's eyes brightened ever so slightly. Luke just knew the mocking that would have been forthcoming under other circumstances. _Before_. Before, Lorelai surely would have found plenty to mock at the thought of Luke going 'shopping' with any female for all things decorative and girly.

To be sure, things weren't at all like 'Before,' but that didn't stop Lorelai from pursing her lips in mild amusement. "You voluntarily bought this stuff?" she inquired, lifting one eyebrow slightly.

"Of course," Luke replied, as if the notion wasn't quite as inconceivable as Lorelai made it out to be. Falling easily — more easily than he would have liked — into a semblance of their old rapport, he added with a raised eyebrow of his own, "We went to 'Tar-zhay.'"

"Well, look at you all knowledgeable consumer," Lorelai smirked in return. "I would have pushed a little harder to get rid of some of the brown if I ever thought it would work."

As quickly as the easy banter had grown comfortable and familiar, it was no match for the grinding halt to which the conversation came upon Lorelai's unintentional allusion to the many hours, days, nights, and long lazy mornings she'd spent there with him.

Luke stiffened at the mention, knowing that for all indications to the contrary, all she'd have had to do was ask. He'd gotten her the TV after only one mention; a little color from Target would have been no different. "Yeah…" he finally muttered, not really a response to anything, but not knowing what else to say.

The tense silence was back with a vengeance, interrupted only by intermittent gurgles from the coffee maker.

Obligation must have gotten the best of Lorelai, for despite the awkward lag in the conversation, not to mention the fact that the topic was something that had always been a sore spot, she piped up a few moments later, hesitantly venturing, "How _is_ April?"

"Good," Luke replied after a moment. What else could he really say? He certainly wasn't going to launch into a narrative of the custody issues, or how April had been on a mission to set him up with her teachers, coaches, and whoever else happened to be female and single. In the end he didn't elaborate at all, merely repeating, "She's really good."

He could see Lorelai's gaze fixed on the far side of the room, substantially girlier than it had been when Jess had been the inhabitant. Still, he was surprised when she pressed the April topic further, wondering aloud, "So she's been staying here sometimes now?"

"Yeah, uh, sometimes," Luke stammered, half wanting someone to discuss the custody issue and the fact that April _hadn't_ been visiting lately with, the other half knowing that Lorelai wasn't at all the person to do so with. In the absence of anything else to say on the topic, and feeling rather on-the-spot with Lorelai's gaze now back on him, he blurted out, "I'm not Luke anymore, I'm officially 'Dad.'"

"That's great, Luke," Lorelai breathed, in what appeared to be genuine happiness for him as her expression softened and her head tilted slightly to the side. "Congratulations."

Luke shrugged bashfully, fending off her slightly-too-close-for-comfort sincerity with a less than eloquent "Well…" as he reached for the coffee pot, now full enough to get her a cup.

Not that that stopped Lorelai from inquiring further, suddenly genuinely intent on catching up on all of Luke's relatives. "And Liz?" she asked, reaching for the mug Luke set down, "How's Doula?"

"Getting bigger," Luke replied candidly, having just seen his ever-growing niece just the other day. "I can't believe how big they get so fast."

Lorelai smiled, nodding in agreement. "I know, I can't believe Gigi's in kindergarten next ye-" She was already most of the way through the sentence before she caught herself. Her head dropped in shame as she suddenly seemed to find the coffee he'd just placed in front of her immensely interesting. Luke knew what was coming next even before her voice cracked and she uttered a stilted "Sorry, I-"

As much as the sudden mention of the asshole's kid — Lorelai's stepdaughter, actually, Luke realized absently — stung, "It's ok," automatically slipped from Luke's mouth.

"No, it's…" Lorelai started hurriedly, shaking her head as if scolding herself. She stood quickly, abandoning the coffee and herding Paul Anka over to the door, muttering apologetically as she did, "I should go."

Now Luke surely didn't want a full run-down of the kid's afternoon schedule, or be forced to look at her finger paintings or whatever, but he couldn't run away from a mere mention of her. It couldn't have hurt him anymore than speak of April had affected Lorelai, either today or last year — he had no right to keep Gigi out of any conversation he had, or might in the future have, with Lorelai. "Lorelai, it's fine," Luke insisted, with a vehemence that surprised himself.

The declaration stopped Lorelai in her tracks, and she whirled back around, biting her lip in an expression that said to Luke more clearly than any words could have, No, Luke, you _know_ it's not fine.

But the more he heard himself repeat it in his head, the more Luke knew it actually was fine. It had to be. So he told her as much, reiterating, "It's _fine_."

The words kept Lorelai from continuing her urgent dash from the apartment, but the blatant skepticism on her face told Luke that she'd need more convincing.

What followed wasn't planned, not by a long shot. From that point on, Luke's brain seemed to run on auto-pilot, he himself having no control over what came out of his mouth — not an altogether unfamiliar feeling that afternoon.

He'd had never exactly been impulsive — case in point, the Let's-run-away-to-Maryland-and-elope!-No! fiasco that had them in this awkward situation in the first place — but that didn't stop him from cautiously seeking confirmation of one thing. "They go every Wednesday for dinner?" he asked, referring to the asshole and the kid.

"Yeah…" Lorelai confirmed hesitantly, obviously unsure of what Luke was getting at.

"And you take him out while they're gone?" he continued.

Lorelai nodded dumbly.

"Well," Luke shrugged, "when you walk him," he pointed down at Paul Anka, "you should stop by for coffee."

**To be continued…**


	3. Wednesday, January 31, 2007

**Thanks to all those who reviewed — the kind words are always appreciated :) **

And thanks a million to _llano_, who saved you readers from a really big headache trying to figure out exactly where this story was heading.

* * *

January 31, 2007

Lorelai's arm ached slightly as she strained against Paul Anka's persistent tugging on his leash. The only reason she wanted him to slow down, of course, was so she could carefully avoid slipping on any of the residual icy patches on the sidewalk. Not because she was in any way hesitant about going to see Luke. Of course not. Purely in the interest of keeping all bones in one piece and all tendons and ligaments in the correct places.

Or so she kept telling herself.

But really, she wondered, still plodding along behind Paul Anka, how on earth could she _not_ be at least a little weirded out by this new _thing_ she and Luke had going on? Not a thing like a relationship-thing, no way, she had Christopher, but still, it was definitely a thing. Because she certainly didn't know what else to call it. She suspected that it was all a big push on Luke's part to show her that he had finally hit the 'not mad' stage and was willing to try and forge some sort of tenuous friendship. Friendship was not, however, exactly what Lorelai would term the _thing_ just yet.

When you sit down with a friend for coffee, you don't feel like you want to crawl out of your skin. You don't spend the entire 34 minutes of your time together mentally counting the seconds to try and determine when it would finally be appropriate to excuse yourself and leave. You don't sit there, in his kitchen, voluntarily participating in the most boring and uncomfortable ping-pong of requisite questions and answers in the world.

Yet that's pretty much what had happened last week. After pacing around at home for almost half an hour after Chris had left to get Gigi, trying to decide whether she should actually take Luke up on his offer, it wasn't even her decision in the end. Paul Anka dancing around begging for a walk and the threat of a puddle to clean up on the floor were what finally got Lorelai out of the house. And even then, there were plenty of detours around town before what she could only describe as some twisted sense of obligation led her to the diner. If Luke was going to make an effort, she at least owed it to him to try and reciprocate, right? After all, yes, he'd had his part in their breakup, but she'd been the one to put the final nail in the coffin.

So seven days ago, exactly one week after Luke's sudden, and above all unexpected, invitation, Lorelai had trudged ever so slowly up the back stairs with Paul Anka. Luke had seemed genuinely surprised when she knocked timidly at the door; despite her tardiness, he hadn't had any coffee even ready to brew. But he'd put some on, and there the two of them had sat, pretty much just staring awkwardly at each other in some alternate universe version of the worst first date ever. He'd asked about Rory, she'd asked about April. He'd asked about the Inn, she'd asked about the diner. He'd asked about Sookie, she'd asked about… Kirk, since she'd found herself pretty much at a loss as to how to counter the Sookie inquiry. And so on and so forth as Lorelai had tried to gulp down her coffee as quickly as possible yet still manage to stay inconspicuous while doing so.

Keeping up some semblance of normal conversation had been considerably harder than it should have been; a big chunk of her day-to-day life — Chris and Gigi — was essentially off-limits. Even the town had been reluctant to warm up to the new Gilmore-Hayden household, so Lorelai certainly couldn't imagine Luke would be anymore accommodating to the subject. Besides, if they were going to try and salvage some sort of friendship out of the fallout from last year, the last thing she wanted to do was to start poking at old wounds.

Assuming, of course, that friendship was what Luke was getting at in the first place.

To be honest, even after seeing him the week after the impromptu invite, Lorelai really just didn't know what to make of Luke's out-of-nowhere offer to have coffee every week. Was he just trying to prove to himself, or to her, that he was over her? That he could deal with seeing her on a regular basis even though she had married Christopher? Or trying to be the bigger man — Chris had always been more than a little bitter when she'd been with Luke, and still was, to tell the truth, so now Luke was trying to prove it didn't bother him that she'd moved on? Or had he just been feeling sorry for her because of the pathetic little breakdown she'd had on his floor after finding Paul Anka there?

Even now, on her way to round three, Lorelai cringed, and only in part because of the ache in her arm as Paul Anka pulled relentlessly on his leash — why the hell was he so excited to go see Luke anyway? But, God, that first week, she'd just wanted to melt into the floor in the apartment there. Even thinking about it was embarrassing. She knew she should have just scooped up Paul Anka, said a quick thanks, and marched right out the door. But after hours of panicking, thinking that after going so well for so long, Paul Anka had gone the way of Skippy and the turtle, seeing him alive and well and breathing and drooling just like normal just hit her harder than she'd expected. More than anything, Lorelai needed the fuzzy little guy as a friend. Rory was away more and more, getting ready to graduate and possibly move even farther away than New Haven. Chris was great, but he hadn't quite found the happy medium between being tooclose, always following her around the house, and never being there, either at his mother's, _her_ mother's, in France with Gigi… And Gigi, sweet kid, and _soooo_ much better than the screaming and scribbling on the floor phase, but still, she was four. All four year-olds had their screechy moments. And when she did, holy headache for Lorelai, Batman.

But Paul Anka, in all of that mess, was her saving grace. Lorelai had always scoffed when Babette and all those other 'cat people' and 'dog people' out there said that their pets knew them better than anyone else, yadda yadda yadda. She'd had it all pegged as bullshit until she got Paul Anka. He was different. Hell, he pretty much represented the longest good relationship she'd had with any male, furry or otherwise.

So when she'd thought she'd lost him, finding him just made it that much more emotional. Not that it had helped that the whole reunion marked her first time back in the diner or Luke's apartment since…

Yeah. Not her best moment, she scowled to herself as she neared the diner once more. And now Luke was just taking pity on her for some reason. Or trying to prove something. Either one of those motives would normally have had Lorelai rolling her eyes and heading in the opposite direction.

But something… Something kept her coming back. It certainly wasn't that she was harboring some sort of longing desire to rekindle whatever romantic relationship they'd once had; she had Christopher now — they were finally _there_. Lorelai was fully committed to giving Rory a real family — hey, better late than never, right? And Gigi too — the kid deserved more of a Mom than a few visits a year to some ditz who spent half her life twisting herself into a pretzel could provide. Lorelai had her life now, and she was good with it.

For so long, though, through all the other changes in her life over the past few years — Rory going to Chilton, then Yale, the Independence closing, the Dragonfly opening… — there had always been one constant. Luke. And suddenly, the circumstances of the whirlwind that had been the past year dictated that he'd had to slip through the cracks. It was the one thing she'd dreaded most when they'd first started dating — the fallout when it didn't work out. All else aside, there was some part of Lorelai that missed being able to just show up in the diner for a cup of coffee and someone to talk to.

Whatever Luke's intentions were with this Wednesday coffee thing, Lorelai supposed, _she_ could at least use it as some sort of attempt to salvage some semblance of the friendship they'd once had. She'd just have to be willing to bite the bullet and simply deal with the awkwardness that came along with seeing an ex on a regular basis. So she hadn't exactly been able to swing that sort of 'friends' thing with anyone else she'd dated recently. Or ever… But other people managed it all the time, right? It should — _would_ — get easier…

Not that she expected the third time to be a charm or anything; she was fully prepared for everything to 100 as painfully awkward as the last two weeks had been, but there she was, once again heading up the narrow staircase behind Paul Anka's persistently wagging tail.

Now, given that Lorelai had already managed to keep up her end of the bargain and shown up under her own power for one week already, she figured maybe Luke would assume that she'd come again and already have coffee going.

She didn't, however, expect him to be hovering at the door in anticipation of her arrival, flinging the door open before she could even knock.

Lorelai's eyes barely had time to widen in surprise before Luke blurted out, "I need your help."

"Ok," she replied, her voice laced with curiousness. She bent down, unclipping Paul Anka's leash and sending him into the apartment, expecting Luke to expand on his plea for aid as she did so.

No such explanation followed. Lorelai stood back up, brow furrowed, and was even more surprised to see that not only did Luke not keep talking, he abandoned her in the doorway and was all the way across the room as if he hadn't just started a conversation and left it do die a slow, painful death.

In spite of the lingering awkwardness of simply being at Luke's, Lorelai couldn't help but wrinkle her face in a sort of amused confusion at Luke's odd behavior. Following him into the apartment, she shut the door behind her and tried to elicit some sort of elaboration from Luke. "With…?" she led him on tentatively.

Luke, leaning pensively against the counter in the kitchen, just lifted his head up and stared at her blankly, "Huh?"

"Help with what?" Lorelai asked, barely able to stifle a giggle at this point. It wasn't often that anyone got to see Luke Danes in full blown space cadet mode, her even less so as of late, so she had to at least let herself mentally mock him a little.

"Right," Luke replied, "Right." He ran a hand nervously over his chin before taking a deep breath and focusing on Lorelai. What might have actually been building up to an attempt at levity on Lorelai's part immediately faded as she absorbed the apparent gravity of whatever Luke was about to lay on her.

Another deep breath and Luke spoke up again, declaring in a subdued monotone, "Anna called."

Lorelai couldn't help it — she flinched slightly, as if the words themselves had physically impacted her. Old habits die hard, she supposed... Anna was certainly not anything she ever would have guessed was coming as part of these little coffee meetings; moreover, now that she had been mentioned, and in the context of helping Luke, Lorelai had no idea what to think.

So Lorelai said nothing.

Not that it necessarily mattered. Even in her momentary daze, still a little thrown from the non sequitur, Lorelai could tell that in Luke's mind, he was still doing the talking anyway, toying with how best to spit out whatever else it was that he had left to say.

A moment or two later, his hands clasped together tightly, Luke managed another word. "April…"

Hearing that name, Lorelai's eyes fell shut for a split second, her lips pressed tightly together as she took a deep breath in an effort to hang on to her composure. Anna _and_ April. Goody. Nothing like jumping headlong into 'friend' mode, apparently. Once off-limits, but sure, _now_ they were okay to talk about, Lorelai noted to herself in wry disbelief.

But for 'friends' — if that's what they were going for here — there shouldn't _be_ any 'off-limits.' So April and Anna it was.

Once Lorelai opened her eyes, it became quickly apparent that Luke was still having a pretty difficult time stringing words together, so with a soft sigh, she begrudgingly coaxed him again. "April…"

Finally mustering up the gumption to say whatever it was that he had to say, Luke started hesitantly. "She, uh," he began, before lowering his voice and shifting his gaze nervously about the room, "got her period."

"And there are currently Soviet spies living in your wall trying to get confirmation of that fact from you?" Lorelai snorted, smirking at Luke's blatant discomfort.

That earned her a stern glare of warning, one she probably should have expected.

Suppressing a giggle, Lorelai apologized, "Sorry, it's just… you." She pointed vaguely in his direction, her giggle suppression not to successful anymore, "With the voice and the looking and the…" Another threatening glare from Luke finally calmed her down a bit, and she returned to the subject at hand. "Never mind. Luke, there's not much I can do about that," she explained honestly. "She's thirteen — almost fourteen," Lorelai corrected with a shrug, at a loss for exactly what Luke thought she could do to help with the situation. "It had to happen."

"I know you can't _do_ anything," Luke snapped, "You can tell me what to do _about_ it."

"Um, you do nothing," Lorelai responded incredulously, in much the same manner she would have if he had asked what color the sky was.

Luke disputed that immediately, crying, "I have to do something! She's going to be staying here sometimes! What do I do?" He begged of Lorelai, verging on the closest to frantic Luke Danes ever got, "What do I _say_?"

"Luke, you say nothing," she repeated with a mildly condescending head tilt in his direction. "The same thing you do with every other female of reproductive age that you come across. Believe me," Lorelai advised, adding in her best authoritative tone, "she's thirteen, she's not going to want to talk about it with her father anymore than you want to hear about it."

"But she'll need… stuff," Luke spluttered, his face contorting awkwardly. "Here. In the bathroom."

Lorelai sighed, shaking her head at the lack of progress she was making. "She'll probably just have her own with her," she pointed out, though the logic appeared lost on Luke. With a gesture of mock surrender with her hands, she eventually gave in. "But ok, fine," she acquiesced, taking a jab at Luke's use of less than correct terminology, "in case she doesn't, she needs 'stuff.' Buy some pads, stick 'em under the sink, and say this," she warned, "this _one_ single sentence: 'April, there's some stuff under the sink if you need it.' That's it."

The thought of only having to speak one sentence on the topic and then have the whole thing over with seemed to momentarily calm Luke, Lorelai surmised. She watched him process her words, take a deep breath, and let out a quiet "Ok" in a whoosh of breath as he eased himself down onto one of the chairs in the kitchen. He obviously hadn't processed _all_ her words.

"Ok then…" she prodded after a moment, waiting to see how long it would take for him to realize that she'd suggested he just waltz into a store in search of feminine hygiene products. Lorelai tried to fight off a smirk as she waited for him to realize that she'd just suggested he deal with his daughter's monthly issues, and in the concrete sense of having to buy the 'supplies'; he'd certainly never volunteered to do that sort of shopping for her or Rory.

A few seconds later, she lost the battle with the smirk. Realization dawned on Luke's face, and he looked at Lorelai, aghast and swallowing nervously, "I have to buy…?"

"No, Luke, you don't," she smiled sweetly, patting him on the head in much the same manner she would have for Paul Anka. "_I_ will go buy the pads for you," she offered, feigning a great noble sacrifice, her hands clasped together and pressed to her chest, "I will _graciously_ go out of _my_ way to save _you_ from that particular traumatic experience."

Lorelai's attempts at joking her way through the conversation were lost on Luke, who just nodded, uttering simply, "Good."

Lorelai sighed. "Would you like me to go now? I can go to Doose's right now, and in five minutes the whole thing is over and behind us. Well, until next time April's here and you get that weird look on your face again," she snickered.

Luke finally reacted, rolling his eyes in response to her antics and shoving his wallet across the table at her. "Fine, just go."

So she did. Lorelai left Paul Anka, promising him she'd be right back for him. Once downstairs, she slipped carefully out the back door, lest one of the 'Hello Magazine' legions attack with a million questions about what she was doing upstairs, none of which she really wanted to answer. Especially since she wasn't quite sure she'd even know the answer. _Especially_ since she'd yet to fill Christopher in on how she'd been filling her time in the past few weeks while he and Gigi were at Francine's. Ever since the little run-in with Doula in front of Doose's, Luke had been a bit of a touchy subject with Chris. Even more than usual. Thus far, things seemed to be okay as long as the Luke-subject remained out of conversations. She'd get around to casually mentioning it — these coffee meeting-type things — eventually, but for the time being, Lorelai was just following Chris' lead and keeping any and all mention of Luke, in any context, to an absolute minimum.

The thoughts of Christopher with respect to her current situation nearly stopped Lorelai in her tracks. She snorted at the irony, shaking her head as she continued down the aisle past the deodorant and toothpaste. It had taken her sleeping with another man, then _marrying_ that man, and her stupid dog running away to get Luke to let her into April's life — to even _talk_ to her about April. As she reached for a small pack of 'Always,' Lorelai knew without a doubt that had this situation come up a year ago it would have been Luke standing in that very spot, scratching his head over what to buy, the thought of asking her for help never having crossed his mind. Ok, well, maybe not. But she knew for a fact that he'd have consulted Lane, or Liz, or… anyone but her.

She should forget it. Just march back upstairs and make him do it himself, just to make him suffer. He wanted to deal with April alone last year, why not now? But, of course, he'd inevitably buy the wrong thing, and the whole thing would just become one big horrible mess the first time April showed up to stay with him. Poor April didn't deserve that, so Lorelai tossed the package in her basket and made her way up to the checkout line. And, she reminded herself as she forked over cash from Luke's wallet, she was making a friendly gesture to get herself back in his friend book. Luke and April were no different now from, say, Jackson and Martha in ten years. Same situation, and she'd help Jackson out in a heartbeat — teasing him horribly of course. And Gigi in less than ten years; that would be her territory now, although Chris would definitely get the full mocking treatment at the first squirminess over the subject.

Now, friends or not, Lorelai wasn't quite comfortable launching back into the full-fledged teasing and mocking stage, so it couldn't be exactly the same. Not that Luke got to get off scot-free; she did get one little hit in when she waltzed out of Luke's bathroom a few minutes later and declared, "Ok, they're in there. I threw in some condoms and a pregnancy test too, you know, 'cause good Lord, she's a woman now-"

She snapped her mouth shut when she saw Luke, standing again, reach unsteadily for the back of a chair, his jaw slack and his face rapidly turning white. "Kidding…" Lorelai backed off, her hands in the air in surrender. Perhaps not the time for that particular strain of teasing. Or the person.

"Jeez," Luke muttered, lowering himself shakily to sit back down.

"Sorry," Lorelai apologized automatically as she took a seat across from him.

But as she sat there with Luke, not knowing what to say, it dawned on her that things like condoms and pregnancy tests actually weren't all that far in the future for a kid April's age. A few months shy of fourteen? Add two years and that's exactly where she herself had been when first faced with the prospect of a Rory on the horizon. Granted, April seemed the type to be more interested in the science of sex than the actual _doing_ of it, but then again, Lorelai's report cards had always had more than their fair share of A's too, especially in the braces-wearing, frizzy-haired, pre-high school years. Right up to where April was now. "You know," she spoke up suddenly, sympathetically, "I didn't really think of it until now, but that totally sucks for you."

Brow furrowed, Luke looked at her in confusion, "What?"

Lorelai hurried to elaborate, "Not that she got her period. It just… I mean, it just…" How to elaborate without reminding Luke that April actually would eventually be having sex at some point — one more mention along those lines was likely to have him keel over or something — eluded her for a moment.

Finally she was able to spit out, "You've barely known her a year and she's already at full-speed towards being an adult. You never got the fun little kid stuff with her," Lorelai reiterated, an unexpected twinge of guilt in her stomach at the sudden, gnawing consciousness that he probably _would_ have gotten a 'fun little kid' stage had they managed to stay together, get married, and follow through with 'kids would be good.' She'd moved on and was right smack in the middle of those goofy, little-kid years with Gigi, but Luke's prospects for that didn't exactly look so hot.

But it wasn't her problem. Lorelai quickly pushed the sentiment aside and reverted back to what she'd been getting at earlier in reference to April. "Odds are she hits the angsty, bitter teenager stage any day now," she pointed out.

Luke eyed her skeptically in return. "How would you know about the angsty, bitter teenager stage?" he asked, disbelieving. "You had Rory."

"I wasn't talkin' Rory," Lorelai corrected, exaggeratedly speaking out of the corner of her mouth, mocking secrecy as she gestured to herself. "Besides," she added, "even Rory had her moments."

After a moment, Luke nodded in agreement, likely having taken stock of some of the Rory 'moments' he'd been a party to. "Yeah well," he then admitted reluctantly, "I think April's already had some too."

"Yeah?" Lorelai leaned forward slightly, heartened by Luke's first attempt of the day at what seemed to be a real conversation.

Luke gave a glum nod in response. "When she had her appendix out. I knew she was sick. Not appendicitis-sick at first, obviously," he clarified, "but I knew she was sick."

Lorelai raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.

"And she was supposed to go to a party," Luke finished.

There was more to the story, but Lorelai could tell Luke still looked a little iffy on the sharing thing given that the topic was April and that he wasn't quiet sure of the boundaries of their tenuous friendship, as it were. But she was determined. These little Wednesday things had been nothing but awkward so far, but maybe, just maybe, the two of them could find some common, and not-too-uncomfortable, ground in the whole parenting experience. She just had to get Luke to pick up on that. "Aaahhh, sick on party night," she drew out in jest, nodding knowingly.

To Lorelai's surprise, it actually seemed to work. Luke grinned and crossed his arms as he leaned back a bit in his chair. Playing right along, he added, "First boy-girl one too."

Cringing, Lorelai gave a sympathetic laugh, "Oh that couldn't have gone over well."

"Like a ton of bricks," Luke confirmed. "There was yelling, there was screaming, there were even some 'You suck!'s and an 'I hate you!'"

But as obvious as it was that he was trying to keep up with the light-hearted tone Lorelai had tried to set for the conversation, she knew immediately that he wasn't completely okay with being on the receiving end of such comments from his daughter. And hearing that kind of thing from your kid for the first time always hurt, that much she knew. "Aw, Luke," she said softly, hoping she could reassure him, "she doesn't mean it."

Luke acknowledged her attempts with a sigh, "I know. Still not looking forward to more of it though," he admitted.

"Yeah," Lorelai had to agree, "sucks being a parent sometimes."

Luke snorted, "Guess so."

"Hey, look at it this way," Lorelai reminded him with a smile, "you had Jess. I'm not sure April, even in full revolt-against-the-'rents mode, could ever compare to him. And you survived that."

With a chuckle, Luke caught Lorelai off-guard by returning her grin with a genuine smile of his own as he agreed whole-heartedly, "That is true."

Looking on as Luke smiled the first real smile she'd seen from him in who knew how long, Lorelai couldn't quite put her finger on what had changed, what was different, what had brought about the sudden, more relaxed feeling in the air. It rattled her, seeing how quickly things could fall back into their old, easy patterns. It rattled her, realizing just how much she'd _missed_ it. Missed _him_. A smile making its way across her face, she promised Luke, "Yeah, you'll be fine."

And so would they. Lorelai was pretty sure they'd still face their fair share of uncomfortable pauses here and there, and she'd still have to deal with telling Christopher about her little outings to the diner, but she and Luke would definitely be fine. The friends thing would come in time. So she would just keep coming on Wednesdays.

**To be continued…**


	4. Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Thanks to all who reviewed — I know it's slow going thus far, but I promise you that the story will remain true to its roots as part of the Reunion Smutficathon. Eventually ;)

And as always, a thank you is due to _llano,_ for keeping me in line here :)

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**February 21, 2007**

Three weeks later, Lorelai sped along the highway in Chris' little Volvo, cursing her dead cell phone battery. It was bad enough that she wasn't going to be able to meet Luke, but now she couldn't even call him to let him know. She might not have thought so much of it a few weeks ago, but lately, she really had to admit, she was actually looking forward to their little Wednesday coffee meetings.

Luke would always have her coffee waiting, even the odd danish in the past couple weeks. And then they'd just sit and talk. Nothing of real substance, of course, but he'd relay little anecdotes about April, or give her the play-by-play of having Zack take over for Lane in the diner. For Lorelai's part, there was always some sort of quarrel between Michel and a random guest to entertain with, and she'd even confessed that Sookie had been growing anxious to expand her repertoire and take the reigns on her own project, so the two of them were toying with the idea of opening a restaurant separate from the Dragonfly. As such, the recent renewal of their 'friends' status left Lorelai with the impression that Luke seemed more than willing to offer what advice he could, happy for both Sookie and Lorelai for doing so well with the Inn. For the most part, 'friends' actually seemed to be working pretty well.

Granted, though things were going well, they were still in no danger of running out of awkward moments. Case in point — the week before. Lorelai had no idea what had possessed Luke to invite his sister and her family over to his place on Valentine's Day, but when she and Paul Anka had arrived last week, that's just who they'd been greeted by. For a split-second Lorelai had the fleeting notion that maybe, just maybe, Luke hadn't been 100 comfortable seeing her on that particular holiday and had felt that they'd need some sort of distraction. For another split-second, she'd almost felt guilty at the thought that something like that was even a possibility. But she'd quashed those feelings as quickly as she could.

Besides, that couldn't have been the case anyway, as had become painfully obvious not long into the visit with Liz and TJ; if Luke had been going for a safe diversion from all things Valentine, he would have been smart enough to know that his sister was not the one to have around to provide such a service.

Liz always meant well, of that Lorelai was sure, but tact was not her forte. Nor was it TJ's, so, after Lorelai having been coerced into sharing the couch with Luke, and then into taking Doula on her lap, Liz had pointed out how adorable the three of them looked together, like a little family — a comment which, even on it's own, made a stammering, red-faced Lorelai want to melt right into the couch cushions as she'd explained that she had her own family, Chris and Rory and Gigi. TJ, of course, had decided to follow that up with the oh-so-blunt comment of 'Hey, what's the story with you two anyway? If you guys didn't split up, my little Doula here could have had herself a cousin already.'

Oh yes, good times there were last week, Lorelai snorted at the recollection as she headed for the Stars Hollow exit ramp. Even after Luke had, stumbling horribly over his words, steered the conversation back towards less touchy subjects, the topic of April had come up. Liz, again letting something slip, had asked how April was warming up to the idea of New Mexico. After Luke's initial deer-in-the-headlights moment, he'd reluctantly explained his custody ordeal with Anna to Lorelai.

That he'd neglected to share that part of his life with her, despite the many mentions of April in their conversations, saddened Lorelai. She'd had to remind herself that he didn't have to tell her anything. It just would have been nice. It just would have been nice to have been included. To feel that Luke still felt he could tell her things. Long before they'd been anything, when the specter of romance between them was little more than her mother's insinuations about the Ice Man at Rory's party, or ill-fated attempts at poker games, or unwelcome, and largely unacknowledged, feelings of jealousy at the appearance of a certain photographer on her way back from the other side of the world, Luke had been her friend — someone to vent to, someone to mock their crazy town with, someone to commiserate with, someone to just _talk_ to. He was on the verge of losing his kid for God's sake — you should be able to talk about things like that with your friends…

Even a week later, Lorelai still felt a twinge of dismay over the fact that Luke hadn't felt comfortable telling her about what was probably the biggest issue in his life at the moment. That dismay was tempered, however, by Lorelai reminding herself that she wasn't exactly an open book to Luke when it came to things like Chris and the horrible wedding/party/extravaganza Emily insisted on planning for them. Ok, she admitted to herself, so the 'friends' status might still be a little shaky. But you had to take what you can get, right?

Which was why, as she neared the center of Stars Hollow, Lorelai made the snap decision to tell Luke face-to-face that she wouldn't be able to stay for coffee. The last thing she wanted was for him to be waiting for her, thinking that her not showing up was some sort of punishment for the slight weirdness that was last Wednesday.

Pulling hastily into a parking spot near the diner, Lorelai yanked the key from the ignition and turned to face the back seat.

"How you feelin' kid? Two seconds inside, I promise, and then we'll gone home and watch TV all night, okay?" she asked with forced brightness.

Gigi smile sweetly from her car seat, nodding with enthusiasm, "Okay."

"Good," Lorelai grinned weakly. "Don't get out 'til I come open the door, okay?"

Though she gave her arm a good scratching as she did so, Gigi obediently remained seated until Lorelai was able to reach in the back door to her.

After unbuckling the car seat, Lorelai grabbed her stepdaughter's hand. She lead Gigi across the street and around to the back door of the diner as stealthily as she could, doing her best to avoid being noticed, but even Gigi knew something was up. Tugging on Lorelai's arm as she clomped up the stairs in her winter boots, the little girl hissed secretively, "Where are we going?"

"I just have to talk to a friend for a minute," Lorelai shushed her hurriedly as she knocked at the door of Luke's apartment.

Luke, however, was not who greeted her when the door opened. Lorelai's eyes went wide as she exclaimed in surprise, "April!"

"Lorelai, hi!" April grinned, "Dad told me you might come." Gesturing inside, she added, "He brought doughnuts up this time."

Despite the mention of doughnuts being something that normally would have caught her attention, Lorelai barely heard a word. April hadn't even finished speaking when Lorelai exploded with a cry of "Shit!" Absentmindedly taking in the respective ages of her present companions, she muttered a quick revision to "Oh, sorry… Crap!" as she hastily yanked Gigi as far from the older girl as the small hallway and looming, descending staircase would allow.

April just looked on curiously, obviously perplexed by the outburst and Lorelai's apparent sudden urge to practically push Gigi down the stairs. "Lorelai?" April ventured hesitantly.

"Have you had chicken pox?" Lorelai looked up, demanding an answer from April even as she dragged Gigi behind her. "Gigi, back up sweetie."

April scoffed, "Oh I had chicken pox a long time ago. Really bad case too, so I highly doubt I'll be susceptible to another bout, even if she is contagious," she reasoned, pointing in Gigi's direction. "That _is_ what you meant, right?"

Luke chose that moment to appear from within the apartment; out of nowhere he was lurking behind April, wiping off a mug with a dishrag and sounding ever so befuddled by the bits of conversation he'd caught. "Contag-" he began, until he spotted Gigi, "What the…?"

"Luke." Lorelai shot up from where she'd been crouching down to corral Gigi. "Hi," she blurted out stiltedly. She failed to continue, which elicited a curious stare from Luke. "I can't stay, I-" She started again, a rather rambling explanation following, "My cell died, so I couldn't call. Ok, well, I guess I could have called from home-"

With Lorelai no longer forcibly restraining her, Gigi took the opportunity to venture out from behind Lorelai's coat. Her nose raised as haughtily as a four year-old's could be, she marched up to Luke, brazenly demanding, "Who are you?"

"Uh… Luke," Luke stammered, visibly thrown by the interruption and the fact it was a confrontation he'd probably never expected to have. He cleared his throat, and addressed the child again, "I'm Luke."

Oh, the awkwardness, Lorelai cringed inwardly. It was hardly an introduction she'd ever expected to hear either. "Gigi, come on," she urged, reaching down once again for the child's hand, "Let's g-"

But finished sizing up Luke, Gigi was already moving on. She sauntered over a few steps and placed her hands on her hips to stare down April. "Who are you?" she asked again.

"I'm April…" the elder girl replied. And playing along proficiently, she eyed Gigi with mock suspicion, inquiring right back, "Who are _you_?"

"My name is Georgia Hayden," Gigi declared proudly.

Moving on and trying to be friends again was one thing, but even Lorelai, for all her vehement proclamations to all the world that she had moved on, was unsettled by the disjointed foursome that had assembled there at Luke's door. Coffee with Luke and talking in the abstract was miles away from the physical presence of the two girls who unwittingly brought to mind memories of all things gone wrong. Why, why, why, why, Lorelai's brain screamed, had she chosen today to be the day she left half her IQ at home? She didn't have to bring Gigi there to tell Luke they couldn't come. In the good old days, people used landlines. Rumor had it, they still worked even when your cell battery was dead. She could have just called him once she and Gigi had gotten home. Stupid stupid stupid, she chastised herself. Incredibly, stupendously, insanely stupid. Apparently coming to see Luke once a week had integrated itself into her routine better than she'd realized.

"Gigi, come on," Lorelai ordered, wanting more than anything to put to rest the on-edge feeling she'd had since April had opened that door. With a pained expression she fought to hide, she apologized profusely. "Luke, I'm sorry," she said, genuinely upset that the Wednesday meetings that had been going so well had gotten screwed up, "I can't stay." Grabbing for Gigi's hand, she spat out the rest of her excuse, her face twisting in discomfort under Luke's curious gaze. "We got a call from her school today, the whole pre-k is on pox alert. Spent all afternoon at the pediatrician's waiting room, and she's got it. A whole six spots already, but there's more coming." She gave a helpless shrug, gesturing out in the direction of the town square, "We've got pre-emptive calamine waiting for us in the car, and that really gross oatmeal stuff, and…" Lorelai's voice trailed off as she realized that it might be overkill at that point. Finally, she offered sheepishly, "I should get her home."

Luke didn't get a chance to respond, for Gigi's mind was not nearly as focused on her illness as her stepmother's was. Rather, she had zeroed in on what April had mentioned upon their arrival. Wrapping her arms around one of Lorelai's legs, she plastered on an angelic smile and looked up, proclaiming, "I want a doughnut."

"Gigi, no," Lorelai admonished with a sigh. "We're going home," she reminded her as she worked to pry the little girl from her leg.

She'd almost managed to free herself from the little girl's inordinately tight grip when she heard Luke speak up hesitantly. "She can have one," he offered.

Lorelai's gaze flew up to Luke's face as she protested immediately, "Luke…"

"You're already here," Luke pointed out logically, adding, "We've all had chicken pox, and you…" He let out a little chuckle as he made a point of letting his eyes drift down to where Gigi was still clinging to Lorelai's leg with a death grip. "Well, you look like you could use the coffee."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks," she muttered. If Luke could take the awkwardness, why couldn't she? And who was she to deny a sick kid a doughnut or two when in a few days, who knew if she'd feel like eating much of anything? With a defeated groan, she managed to free her leg and squatted down to look Gigi squarely in the eye. "Gigi, you sure you feel okay?" she inquired, "No itching yet?"

Gigi shook her head vigorously in confirmation, "Nuh uh."

"I give up," Lorelai conceded, dropping her chin melodramatically to her chest, "You win." Giving Gigi nudge on the back, she steered her towards the apartment. "Go on, kid." As Gigi scampered away after April, who had gone to retrieve the doughnuts in question, Lorelai stood up slowly. Rather than dwell on the rather odd turn the afternoon's events had taken, she forced out a weak joke, feigning annoyance as she slipped past Luke as she warned him, "Doughnut for a sick kid? See If I ever listen to your health food rants again."

Luke just chuckled, closing the apartment door behind him as he followed her inside.

Lorelai quickly shed her coat, dumping it, along with her purse, onto one of the chairs in the kitchen. As Luke went about preparing her coffee, she couldn't help but let her gaze wander across the room, to where April and Gigi had absconded with a box of doughnuts and the TV remote.

"Crazy," she murmured under her breath, "_crazy_."

She hadn't expected Luke to hear, but nevertheless, he appeared behind her, asking, "What?" When Lorelai didn't reply right away, he followed her line of sight as he set her coffee on the table. "Oh, those two."

"Yeah, I mean, last year if ever I thought I'd be in a room with my stepdaughter and your daughter, I'd have thought they'd be the same thing." The words fell from Lorelai's mouth before she even realized she was speaking aloud.

Hearing herself, Lorelai cringed immediately. For weeks, she'd been so good at avoiding all things related to 'The Great Luke and Lorelai Implosion of '06' — where had that come from? It wasn't meant as a dig at Luke, nor, on the other side of things, any sort of self-pitying 'woe is me' for having made her bed and slept in it — with Chris, she mentally added wryly. It was just an observation that slipped out of its own volition, probably brought about by the odd juxtaposition of Luke's new parenting situation with her own. But that hardly meant that she was looking forward to Luke's reaction, whatever it was.

He hadn't really responded to the comment, so tentatively, wincing exaggeratedly, Lorelai peered over her shoulder with a soft "Sorry, it just…"

She didn't know exactly what she was expecting from Luke — regret? anger towards her? something else? — but oddly enough, he displayed little reaction at all, merely staring blankly at the two girls and their doughnuts as he absently dunked his tea bag in the mug he held.

There was a bit of a delayed reaction to Lorelai's words on his part, but eventually Luke came out of his daze, shaking his head and brushing her off with a less than telling "Hey, no, it's fine," as he moved to sit down at the table.

He didn't say anything else, however, and as Lorelai pulled out her own chair she couldn't shake the feeling that her thoughtless comment had, in fact, affected him somehow. After another moment or two of the stifling silence, she knew it was up to her to rectify the situation, so she forced out the first thing that came to mind. "Uh, so how's Liz?" she asked. "I heard from Mrs. Cassini that they stopped in again before they left town over the weekend?"

The inquiry, at least superficially, did the trick, and Luke came back to life with a snort of mild disbelief. "She's great," he replied, shaking his head slightly before adding, "TJ's apparently going to branch out into pewter sculptures he was talking about."

Hearing words come from Luke that weren't an admonishment for her previous slip of the tongue meant Lorelai had to be quick to take a gulp of coffee in order to mask the relief she was sure was written all over her face. Grimacing instead at the still too-hot drink, she nodded deliberately, recalling the pewter mention from the previous week.

"Sculptures he's gonna make _himself_," Luke revised, adding the stress with a skeptically raised eyebrow.

"Wow," Lorelai gasped, practically choking on her coffee as she laughed at the thought. "I'd love to see how one of those turns out."

"You and me both," Luke echoed. "Oh," he exclaimed suddenly, plucking a photo from beneath a magnet on the refrigerator, "and here's a picture Liz remembered to give me. I guess from when they stopped by Philadelphia to see Jess a couple weeks ago."

Lorelai reached for the print, giggling almost immediately after laying eyes on it. "Oh my God," she gushed, "never thought I'd see the day. Jess and a poofy pink bundle of little baby girl. But that's so sweet," she smiled, looking back up at Luke. "Was that the first time he saw his sister?"

"I think it was, yeah," Luke confirmed, eyeing the picture as Lorelai placed it on the table between them.

Still gazing at the image, Lorelai couldn't help but muse aloud, "Look at her, they've both got Liz in them…" And, actually curious as to how Liz's elder offspring was faring as of later, she asked, "How is Jess? I know Rory told me about the book last year, but since?"

With the air of a proud dad, Luke reached for the picture, replying, "He's good. Still at that store, and he said he's working on writing something else."

"That's great-" Lorelai started, genuinely glad, largely for Luke's sake, that Jess was actually turning out to be pretty successful. But as she spoke, she caught sight, out of the corner of her eye, of Gigi on her tiptoes and reach for one of Luke's precariously placed trophies. "Oh, Gigi, leave the trophies alone sweetie," she called out.

Not as quick to make the transition to parent mode as Lorelai, it took Luke a moment, but it eventually occurred to him to call over to his own daughter. "Hey, uh, April," he cleared his throat, "why don't you try, I dunno, playing a game or something?"

April peered over the end of the couch, her expression doubtful to say the least. "You have games?" she inquired skeptically.

"You could play Twister with the table cloth," Lorelai piped up, shooting a grin in April's direction.

Luke sent Lorelai a rather stern look of warning before turning back to April with much the same expression. "What about checkers or something? I have checkers," he pointed out to April. He didn't wait for an answer before facing Lorelai again, apparently suddenly realizing his own lack of experience with 4 year-olds. "Does she do checkers?" he asked, wearing a confused expression as he gestured over to where Gigi stood.

"Yeah," Lorelai assured, smirking, "and she usually beats both me and Chris." Glancing over her shoulder, she turned her attention to her stepdaughter, "Gigi, you want to play checkers with April?"

Gigi nodded in the affirmative, so after a few directions on locating the set from Luke, the two girls were quickly engrossed in a game as the parental units of the group looked on.

Still a surreal sight, Lorelai had to admit, but perhaps it was for the best. She and Luke had seemed to have been making progress on the friends front, and now there they were with April and Gigi getting along as well. She had to think it boded well for solidifying that friendship status. The next thing would just be to have Luke and Christopher able to stand in the same room with each other without all hell breaking loose. That would probably take a fair bit longer, Lorelai conceded to herself. But they could get there eventually, right? So she could hope, anyway.

Reverting her focus back to the checkers game underway across the room, Lorelai nudged Luke, who seemed to have zoned out as well. "She's pretty good with her," she reported, impressed by April's taking to Gigi. "Has she gotten to see Doula at all? Or does she have other cousins or anything?"

"Nah, she hasn't been around when Liz and TJ are. But I gave her some pictures from last time they were here." Luke brushed off the question, though Lorelai suspected he would have liked to have his kid get to know the rest of her family.

"Too bad," Lorelai commented softly.

"Yeah," Luke agreed. "I could tell her to try the baby sitting thing, but I think she's still a little young or something, I dunno," he shrugged. "I don't think it matters anyway. I guess Albuquerque is really science oriented or something, so I don't think she'll be doing it down there either." With a slight roll of his eyes, he informed Lorelai, "She's already been researching any sort of science programs she can find. Even the baseball team is some science thing — the Isotopes? She told me she'll bring me a hat."

Lorelai grinned, "Cute. Sounds science-y," she remarked, her smile transforming to a mild frown, "Not that I remember much about science…"

"Since when do you need to know about isotopes? Or anything science?" Luke chuckled.

From the good-natured swat on the arm Lorelai sent in Luke's direction as she feigned hurt over the comment, as the kids continued with checkers, the two adults fell into the easy banter and conversation that had come to embody their 'Coffee Wednesdays.'

Talk of the tentative plans for location scouting for Lorelai's and Sookie's restaurant; of speculation about what, exactly, TJ's pewter sculptures might turn out to look like; of Taylor's latest grand idea to use ski hill snow guns to make Stars Hollow snowy despite the relatively snow-free winter in order to boost tourism…

Through more than one coffee refill, not to mention an excursion over towards the coffee table by Lorelai to snag what was left of the doughnut stash, Luke and Lorelai just kept right on talking about whatever came to mind, with Lorelai, at least, basking in the knowledge that, despite the potential awkwardness the afternoon's situation had initially presented, things were going really well.

Until, that is, she just happened to catch a glimpse of the clock on Luke's microwave across the room. "Oh God," she yelped, "I had no idea how late it was. Crap," she muttered to herself, Chris was going to be home soon. She didn't even pay attention to Luke's confused utterance of "What?" Quickly gathering up the array of doughnut sprinkles she'd littered across the table, she yelled across the room, "Gigi?"

"She's asleep," April informed the two adults flatly, not even moving her gaze from the TV screen for half a second.

Lorelai groaned, dropping her head down to her forearm on the table for dramatic effect. "Great. That kid is dead weight," she groused. "I can barely carry her anymore, never mind with stairs." Pulling herself to her feet, Lorelai began gathering her things, calling out to April, "Hey April, just wake her up for me? We've gotta head home."

Luke quickly stood as well, grasping Lorelai's wrist to stop her. "No, hey-" he started, before seeing April lean over towards Gigi's end of the couch. "April, leave her!" he hissed as loudly as having a sleeping kid in the room would allow. Before she knew what was happening, Lorelai found herself with Luke still holding her forearm, insisting, "I'll bring her."

Lorelai shook her head, gently easing her arm from Luke's grip to slip on her coat and pointing out, "She's just going to wake up in the car anyway."

"Then I'll walk her to your place," Luke countered.

"Luke, I have the car," Lorelai protested, "I have to-"

Luke wasn't backing down, however, challenging her objection with "Then you drive, we'll meet you there."

Lorelai was fighting a losing battle, she knew, but that didn't stop her from letting out another plaintive, "You don't have to-"

"It's fine," Luke assured, again ignoring her feeble protests. Crossing the room to where the girls were, he gave April a tap on the shoulder. "You're okay for a few minutes while I walk them home?" he asked quietly.

April let out a short "Yup" — all she could manage while thoroughly engrossed in what appeared to Lorelai to be one of those horribly disgusting shows on the Learning Channel about blood and guts and surgeries.

Judging by the grimace on Luke's face as he caught a glimpse of the TV, Lorelai could tell he wasn't impressed by the program either. "Ok," he responded, regardless. And turning to where Gigi lay curled up, he whispered a soft, "Come'ere kid," as he lifted the little girl gingerly off the couch. As he settled her against his chest and draped her abandoned jacket over her shoulders, he gave April one last wary glance, instructing, "You should get ready for bed too."

April replied with an "Uh huh…" that to the trained ear was clearly her version of 'Whatever, Dad.' Lorelai would have been amused by Luke being a part of typical father-daughter interaction had she not been so fixated on the sight of Luke — _Luke_ — standing there before her with a sleeping Gigi in his arms. 'What's wrong with this picture?' anyone?

So dazed by the unexpected sight was Lorelai that she barely even noticed when the sight itself was no longer in front of her. Only when April, who had apparently reached a commercial break in her show, lifted her head from the arm of the couch and asked pointedly "Shouldn't you go too?"

Jerking her head in the direction of the door, Lorelai just managed to catch a glimpse of the unlikely pair heading towards the stairs. "Right," she nodded, "Right. See you later April!" she called behind her as she grabbed her coat and purse, dashing out the door.

By the time she reached the street downstairs, she could just make out Luke's form striding in the direction of her house. Like a dousing with a bucket of icy water, the realization hit her that, on the off-chance that Christopher was home already, Luke beating her home could be a very bad thing. She wasn't exactly sure how Gigi would react either, if she woke up in the street, in the dark, with Luke carrying her.

Needless to say, Lorelai didn't linger at the diner's back door any longer. As quickly as she could, she made her way over to the Volvo, ducking Taylor's disapproving glare as she sped away from the square.

Luckily, the Jeep, which she'd traded to Chris at the pediatrician due to the Volvo having the only car seat, was still not in the driveway when she pulled up. Lorelai let out a quick sigh of relief before jumping out of the car and hurrying off in the direction Luke would be coming from.

She was nearly halfway back to the diner before she rounded a corner and caught sight of Luke. Thankfully, Gigi looked to still be asleep despite Luke shifting her uncomfortably in his arms.

A grimace crossing Luke's face as he once again hoisted Gigi higher on his torso jolted Lorelai into action from where she'd stood. Scampering up to the approaching pair, she apologized lamely, "Sorry about this. You didn't have to-"

"About what?" Luke replied flatly, a harsh whisper as he brushed past her. "It's fine."

"You, her," Lorelai stammered from where she'd been left behind, still refusing to believe that Luke could ever be 100 percent okay with anything having to do with Christopher. Regardless of him offering up doughnuts and board games, it _had_ to be uncomfortable for him to be dealing with Gigi. And not just uncomfortable in the sense of lugging a 40 pound kid across Stars Hollow. Jogging up behind Luke, she reiterated, "This. It's weird."

Luke merely reiterated his own stance. "It's fine," he repeated.

"But it's _weird_," Lorelai insisted, determined to get Luke to appreciate how much _she_ appreciated what he was doing.

"Fine," Luke sighed in exasperation, casting a weary look over Gigi's back at Lorelai. "If you say it's weird, then it's weird. I give up."

Taken aback by Luke's snide reply, Lorelai slowed momentarily. "Fine…" she echoed numbly. But determined to make her point, she once again picked up the pace and asserted, "I'm just saying you shouldn't have to-"

This time it was Luke who stopped in his tracks. With yet another sigh, he slowed his determined gait and turned around to face Lorelai. "I don't _have_ to," he stressed, "I _want_ to."

Out of reflex, Lorelai scoffed, "No, you don't."

Luke set his jaw and studied Lorelai intently for a moment before taking off without a word. Barely ten steps away, however, he whirled back around, hissing at Lorelai in disbelief, "You think I have a personal vendetta against a sleeping four year-old with chicken pox?"

"No, I just-" Lorelai spluttered, wide-eyed.

"Lorelai," Luke cut in, exasperated at first, but his tone and expression softened quickly. "Before…" He paused momentarily, as if to search for the best word, finally spitting out, "everything, you were a friend. You are still that." With as much of a shrug as he could manage with Gigi's head on his shoulder, he added, "You always will be. And if my friend's kid falls asleep on my couch, I'm gonna help her get the kid home."

Lorelai's mouth fell open, though she found herself closing it just as quickly, for she had no idea what to say to that. It was the first time she'd actually heard Luke articulate the fact that the two of them, were, finally, what he would consider friends. Moreover, how far he was willing to push himself into uncomfortable territory to hang on to that friends status was more than she had ever expected when she started going to see him for coffee once a week. A watery smile the most she was able to manage, Lorelai choked out a soft, "Thank you…"

Luke gave half a nod in return, the slightest hint of a grin toying with the corners of his mouth.

From there on, the trio made their way to Lorelai's house in what was arguably the least awkward silence they'd shared in a long, long time. Were she to go out on a limb, Lorelai might have even described it as something akin to amicable.

Still, as they approached the porch stairs and were faced with the prospect of Luke possibly having to enter the house, a decidedly unsettled air took over. Christopher probably wouldn't take well to Luke being there when he came home, that much Lorelai knew, and Luke probably wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to have to make an appearance in the home that was supposed to have been his either. So it really didn't matter what Lorelai's view of the situation was — not that she knew exactly what it was anyway.

Running up the steps ahead of Luke and Gigi, she pulled her keys from her purse, fumbling with them as she sought to hastily unlock the door. "Lemme just…" she trailed off, the explanation not really necessary.

Luke tipped his head in acknowledgement, waiting obediently on the porch as Lorelai ducked inside to shed her coat and shoes.

Lorelai appeared in the doorway and reached for Gigi, carefully plucking the sleeping girl from Luke's arms. "I got her," she assured Luke, who was less than well versed in the handling and transfers of small children. Situating Gigi in her own arms, Lorelai smiled gratefully at Luke, "_Thank_ you."

"No problem," Luke replied as he reached out to ensure that the jacket draped over Gigi's shoulders was still secure. "No problem."

And without another word, he gave Lorelai a half-hearted smile and turned to leave.

Though Lorelai knew her arms wouldn't hold out all that long with Gigi draped over her upper body, not to mention the fact that it was less than warm outside, she lingered in the doorway. "Luke," she called out suddenly, causing him to pause at the bottom of the stairs expectantly. Of course, she had no idea what she'd meant to say when she'd let his name slip from her mouth. So she just spat out the truth. "Today was… nice," she finished stiltedly.

Luke looked down for a second, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. When he finally lifted his face back up towards Lorelai, his smile was considerably wider. "Yeah, it was."

**To be continued…**

_About the restaurant thing… This was written before there was a mention of Baby Melville (Belleville?) #3, so Sookie's still on her diaper countdown in my books._


	5. Wednesday, March 7, 2007

**Thanks to all who have left such kind reviews. I also owe _llano_ thanks for her finding time in her busy schedule to help me out with this :)**

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March 7, 2007**

Two weeks later, Luke stood in his kitchen, fidgeting uncharacteristically as he filled his coffee pot with water. Lorelai and Paul Anka were due to show up any minute, and, silly as he felt, he was anxious to see them. In spite of his initial misgivings when he'd impulsively blurted out the standing invitation for coffee, the two months that had passed since then had left him much more comfortable with the notion of seeing Lorelai on a regular basis again. So much so, in fact, that when she'd called the previous week to let him know that since Gigi was still entrenched in her bout of chicken pox that she'd have to forego coffee in favor of staying home with the sick kid, he was hit a little harder by Lorelai's prospective absence than he ever expected to be.

For an hour or so following the phone call, Luke had wavered between denial over the fact that he was upset that he wouldn't get to see Lorelai, admitting to himself that he'd miss having her there for that week's coffee thing, and disgust over the fact that he'd let himself get so used to having her around again. It was pathetic, really, if you thought about it, he'd told himself repeatedly, when the highlight of your week was the chance to talk to your ex-fiancée for a few hours. It wasn't like they could ever be anything more than friends. It wasn't like she wasn't already re-married and fully ensconced in a relationship with the dick she'd been dancing around for over twenty years. It wasn't like it didn't hurt like hell every time his memory brought him back to that crushing moment when she'd admitted that she'd slept with said dick. Or worse yet, when his mind involuntarily conjured up fleeting images of said sleeping with said dick.

But what it came down to was the same thing Luke had come to realize in that first week after Paul Anka had gotten lost: somewhere in the months since it had all happened, the sting of Lorelai's actions had lessened to the point of being outweighed by the persistent, dull ache he felt in his chest when he didn't get to see her at all. The Lorelai who had left him was still better than no Lorelai at all, it was that simple. He'd spent how many years on the outskirts of her life, watching her with other men? He'd managed that. And yes, it was a little different now, now that he knew what could have been, but if Luke just forced himself to forget, at least when Lorelai was around, he could handle being relegated back to 'friend' status.

As just a friend, he should have been able to handle the minor disruption that Gigi's illness had caused in their routine. In the end, he was still of the mind that he had 'handled' it. He _could_ have stayed in the diner, putzing around even though Zack's day and Caesar's night shifts overlapped on Wednesdays specifically so Luke could disappear upstairs for a while.

But in the end, even after chastising himself for it, he couldn't help himself. He'd poured a few to-go cups of coffee, ignored Caesar's protests over having nothing to serve with the meatloaf and dipped into the diner's daily batch of mashed potatoes, and even fried up a burger to Paul Anka's specifications.

To say that Lorelai had been surprised to find him on her porch would have been an understatement; he knew her too well — as much as she'd tried, there had been no hiding that from him. But to her credit, she hadn't questioned his 'in case the chicken pox/potato thing runs in the family'-rationale and had even stepped aside to allow him into the kitchen when she'd found it impossible to balance both the tray of coffee and the vat of potatoes on her own.

That had been… odd, to say the least. Luke had been well aware that he hadn't been in the house since things had gone sour the year before. The funny thing had been, though, that if he pushed aside the knowledge that the house wasn't just Lorelai's any longer, it didn't feel much different. For the most part things still looked the same, still looked like the same old house — especially the kitchen — that he'd been fixing things in for years. In all honesty, the single thing Luke had found most strange was the fact that Rory's room wasn't hers anymore. Where a mousy little brown head had been, nose poked in a book, for years, there was now Gigi's little blonde one.

In any case, the situation — his unexpected appearance, rather than the location, had made Luke not want to overstay his welcome, so he'd bade Gigi an obligatory 'Get well, kid,' nodded in Lorelai's direction, and headed back out the door.

But it hadn't been enough. And now, a week later, and only a few moments away from getting to see Lorelai again, Luke was washing the same mug over and over just to have something to do besides wait.

Luckily, he heard the door of his apartment creak open. "Hey," he greeted her, finally drying off the mug. Across the room, Lorelai offered a tight smile as she unclipped Paul Anka's leash. Luke didn't really pay any mind to her restrained demeanor; his happiness at simply seeing her again outweighing any concern he might have otherwise had.

That changed, however, the longer Lorelai went without saying a word. Luke went about what had become his normal Wednesday afternoon routine: pouring Lorelai's coffee, steeping some tea for himself, bringing it all to the kitchen table where Lorelai sat, adding a spoon and a small carton of milk near his seat.

Through it all, though she acknowledged him with a distant nod when he placed her coffee in front of her, Lorelai said nothing. Not when Luke tossed a stale roll he'd brought up from the diner in Paul Anka's direction, not when Luke sat down at the table with her. Nothing.

Even including the first few weeks of meeting for coffee, Luke hadn't seen her this quiet in… Well, he couldn't remember exactly when, but it certainly wasn't ever commonplace for her sit this long without a word. He could tell something was off and, after a few more moments of her staring absently into space, he gave her a nudge with his foot under the table. "You okay?"

"What?" Lorelai's head spun to focus on Luke, a startled expression on her face. "Oh, yeah, sorry," she muttered distractedly, "I'm fine."

Luke snorted a stifled laugh, unimpressed by Lorelai's weak attempt at a cover. "Well, you just stole the milk for my tea," he pointed out, gesturing to the now-empty quart next to her. "I don't care," he continued with a concerned smile, "but you usually drink your coffee black. Plus, the stirring…" he trailed off, nodding down to where she continued stirring her now pale coffee aimlessly.

Lorelai dropped her gaze down to her cup, her hand freezing immediately before she looked up again sheepishly. "Oh," she shrugged, "Oops."

But as quickly as she'd shown signs of life, they faded again even faster, leaving Luke to wonder if something really was wrong to have her quite this preoccupied. Yet another fight with her parents? Problems at the Inn? A fight with Sookie? Or Rory? Curiously, he nudged her again, asking with an edge of skepticism, "You sure you're ok?"

Her shoulder slumped considerably, Lorelai let out a tired sigh. "It's nothing," she said, brushing off Luke's concern with a weary shake of her head. Luke couldn't be sure if he was meant to hear what followed, but he was certain she muttered under her breath, "Not that you want to hear anyway."

He called her on it. "What does that mean?" he inquired.

Lorelai's gaze shot up, panicky as she met Luke's eyes. So he _hadn't_ been meant to hear it. But that didn't change the fact that he had, and he wasn't about to let whatever it was go, especially if it was bothering her as much as it appeared to be. Crossing his arms in front of him, Luke lifted a curious eyebrow in an effort to urge her to elaborate.

For a moment it looked as if she was going to put up a fight, but in the end it became pretty clear to Luke that whatever it was she had weighing on her mind had worn her down to the point where she couldn't even be bothered to belabor the point. With a sheepish shrug, she gave in, mumbling down towards her coffee, "Christopher."

"Oh," Luke replied, unable to get anything else out, the single word hitting him like a physical blow. Trouble in paradise, he thought to himself wryly — he should have known.

"Yeah, so…" Lorelai drew out after taking a deep breath. And making what was quite possibly the most transparent attempt at a change of subject Luke had ever seen, she spoke again, forcing out with false brightness a chirpy "Anyway-"

His voice low and gruff, Luke cut her off abruptly. "You can talk to me about him."

The words were barely out of his mouth before Lorelai voiced her muted protest of, "No, Luke, it's too…" Too _what_ she didn't specify, her voice fading into silence.

It was of little consequence to Luke, however, who had already made up his mind. Uncomfortable as it was, he'd made up his mind; he could be the jackass ex who held her current relationship over her head forever, but he couldn't do that. If he still wanted Lorelai in his life in any capacity, he was just going to have to deal with her life as it was now. _Husband_ and all, he reminded himself with disdain. "Look," he began frankly, leaning back in over the table, "I'm trying to be a friend here. That's what this is, right? Us trying to be friends?" Glaring at Lorelai knowingly, he made his point dryly, "You should be able to talk to your friends about your husband."

Lorelai's face softened and her head fell to the side in a sympathetic tilt. "Luke…" she whispered, "You're not just a friend."

Luke couldn't hold in the chuckle of disbelief that threatened upon hearing her words. "Lorelai," he said, shaking his head, "if you're married, any man who isn't your husband is just a friend. Ask him," he challenged. "We don't agree on much, but I'm pretty sure he'd be with me on that." He snorted at the irony in his words before zeroing in on Lorelai to level with her. "I _have_ to be just a friend."

What followed was one of those plaintive, doleful looks from Lorelai that had surfaced more than once towards the end of their relationship. In retrospect, Luke knew, that they'd probably been more commonplace than he'd thought; had he taken a bit more notice of them, perhaps they'd not be in their current situation. But Luke also knew that that crap about hindsight was true, and that regrets would get him nowhere. Things happened and they were where they were — he couldn't dwell on what that particular look had meant back then, nor what it meant now for Lorelai to still be looking on sadly in his direction.

Resolute in his previous statement, Luke brought the topic back to the subject at hand. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he asked, "So what is it?"

Lorelai eyed him skeptically for a moment before succumbing, albeit with a bit of reluctance. "Gigi told him about coming here," she explained hesitantly. "Well," she corrected, "not about coming here, really, but she said something about April, and he knew who she was, so I had to…" She paused, as if weighing her words before finishing, "fill in the details."

Well, Luke reasoned to himself, that certainly accounted for her distracted behavior. Knowing how he himself had reacted to being on the receiving end of news like that back at her parents ridiculous re-wedding or whatever the hell it was, Luke almost had to feel sorry for Lorelai given how her asshole of a husband had probably reacted. Almost. "Bet he didn't take that well," he observed with what was meant to be a joking grimace.

His weak attempt as humor was lost on Lorelai, who just ran a hand through her hair and exclaimed in wonder, "No, actually, it was weird; he actually seemed okay with it."

For his part, Luke had thought that she probably should have let the asshole — _Christopher_, he begrudgingly forced himself to correct in his head — know what was going on every Wednesday right away, but he hadn't felt it was his place to say anything. And given that it was only now getting out in the open, Luke was hard pressed to believe that the knowledge that she'd been coming to the diner had gone over so well.

After a moment of studying Lorelai, who had fallen silent once again, it became pretty clear that there was still something bothering her — perhaps something along the lines of things _not_ going over so well. When she didn't volunteer any further information on her own, he prompted her with a questioning "But…?"

She let out a lengthy sigh in response. And, Luke noticed, she wouldn't meet his eyes, apparently preferring to focus on her coffee. Finally, she spat out hurriedly, still in the direction of the coffee, "He wants to move to Paris."

Though the first mention of Christopher's name earlier had hit Luke hard, it still paled in comparison to the sensation Lorelai's latest blow had dealt. He felt like the wind had physically been knocked out of him, so much so that he could barely manage the incredulous "H- he _what_?" he was able to stutter.

"Café au lait, croissants, stinky cheese, and tiny cars," Lorelai confirmed with a defeated nod.

Her words did little to help Luke in processing the concept; he was still reduced to half a word of disbelief, "Wh-?"

"He wants to move to Paris," Lorelai repeated, "Gigi's mom is there and Chris is getting sick of shuffling the poor kid back and forth between continents. And it's just going to get harder when she starts school," she rambled on hurriedly, looking anywhere but at Luke. "He doesn't have to work, but Sherry does. So his solution is to just up and move halfway across the world."

"You have to work," Luke spluttered in response, the only point he felt could be argued from his position. "Your Inn is here."

With a weak shake of her head, Lorelai finally drew her gaze mournfully to meet Luke's. "Not in his book, I don't. And I _don't_ really," she conceded, "It's not like it's a money thing anymore, and maybe it _is_ just some crazy reaction to finding out that I'm even talking to you."

Luke's first instinct told him that, obviously, that was exactly the case. And he might have even been able to derive some sort of twisted glee from the knowledge that the prick still saw him as a threat were it not for the fact that it was going to lead to Lorelai moving halfway across the world. They were finally getting back to a good place in their relationship and that _asshole_ had to-

As if she could read his mind, Lorelai cut off his train of thought: "But maybe not," she reasoned reluctantly. "I mean, I do see his point, it might be better for the kid. It's hard enough for you and Anna with April, and you live all of fifteen minutes apart," she added pointedly.

Taking a deep breath, Luke forced himself to calm down. She was absolutely right; no kid deserved to be dragged back and forth between continents, and that was exactly was Gigi was facing for the rest of her life. As much as he hated to admit it, Luke had to agree with the asshole — Christopher. He was doing what was best for his kid. "Right," he muttered in half-hearted agreement. Not that that meant Luke wasn't still shaken by the prospect of Lorelai — Lorelai, Rory, Paul Anka, and all ties to everything Gilmore, suddenly hightailing it out of Stars Hollow.

At least, from what he could tell, he wasn't the only one not too keen on the idea. "But Paris?" Lorelai wailed melodramatically. "My French vocabulary consists entirely of what I just said. Café and croissants. And escargot," she revised, her face twisting in disgust as she did so, "but those are really not something I'd ever want to have to deal with again. And what am I going to do there with no French words?" she cried, "I won't be able to work at all, I'll just sit at home doing nothing." With a nod of concession, she admitted, "Which would be fine, but I won't be able to entertain myself with TV because it'll all be in French!"

"But you're thinking about it," Luke observed stoically, stating rather than asking. She wouldn't have been so worked up about it if she'd already made up her mind to stay. "Regardless of the snails and the television."

"Well, look who speaks French," Lorelai quipped with a tinny laugh, not even hiding the fact that she was avoiding the truth in Luke's statement.

Luke wasn't in the mood for her games. "It's food," he replied dryly. "I cook things."

Lorelai's forced smile faded when she acknowledged, contrite, "Right, the cooking thing…" And with a shaky breath, she admitted, looking him in the eye, "Yeah, I guess I have to consider it, don't I?"

Though he hated that it was true, Luke knew she was right. Though he was grateful that her question was meant as rhetorical; she was rambling on before he was forced to actually come up with some sort of verbal confirmation that, yes, he agreed that she should be thinking about moving millions of miles away.

"But I already know I don't want to," Lorelai asserted next. "I may not have to work, but it's my inn. I _love_ the Inn," she declared, absently tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "And Stars Hollow, and Sookie and Jackson, and Babette, and Kirk, and Miss Patty, and the three ceramic unicorn stores. And God help me," Lorelai paused, shuddering violently before finishing, "my parents are here." Luke eyed her skeptically; that was the last thing he'd have expected to tie her down to this side of the Atlantic. "Yes, I know," she giggled, catching the meaning behind Luke's questioning stare, "that's the last thing that supposed to keep me on this continent, but I really think if I lived in Europe it might be too much of a good thing. They'd be so far away all the time that I might actually start to miss them, and I can't have that." She turned to Luke with a feeble shrug, "Keep your enemies closer, you know?"

"Sure," Luke allowed himself a chuckle in response, elder Gilmore humor pretty much the only thing he could find amusing in the conversation thus far.

Lorelai paid little mind to Luke, apparently caught up in her own ramblings. "And Rory!" she exclaimed, following it with a softer whimper, "God, Rory…" Rolling her neck in a gesture of helpless frustration, she whined petulantly, "I'm barely used to her just being down at Yale."

"But…" Luke started, hesitant to play devil's advocate, but knowing that Lorelai needed perspective more than coddling. "She's graduating," he pointed out. "And you said yourself she might take off for London if that Logan guy ends up back there, right? Paris is a hell of a lot closer to England than Connecticut," he reasoned,

"I know…" Lorelai drew out, pouting despondently.

"And you _could_ work," Luke blurted out suddenly, opportunities from years past dawning on him. "You turned down that hotel guy two years ago. All that crap he sent in that basket?" he stressed. "Don't think for a minute that they wouldn't take you back to run an Inn in France or something." Reminding her of what she'd been telling him recently, he asserted, "The Dragonfly is doing even better now than it was then, isn't it? They'd be lucky to have you."

Of course, the guilty look that surfaced in her eyes as soon as the words were out of his mouth told Luke that she needed no reminding; she'd done all the thinking already. "I know, I know!" Lorelai yelped defensively. "All signs point to Paris," she cried, her arms flailing about for effect. "Go directly to France, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars," came her acerbic tirade. "Get Euros instead," she added, glumly resting her chin on her palms.

Luke had no words; was he supposed to comfort her? Tell her she didn't have to go? _He_ didn't want her to go, but there was no denying that it was what would be best for Gigi in the long run. And, as one of her parents, or step-parents — whatever, Lorelai had to acknowledge that.

At least it appeared that she was, to some degree anyway. Sounding resigned, Lorelai sent Luke a sidelong glance, her face still wedged between her palms, and lamented further, "It would totally mean not opening a restaurant with Sookie. And it would mean leaving." Dropping her arms down, she shifted, leaning back in her chair in a defeated slouch. "I've been here forever, I can't just…"

She trailed off, her voice cracking, and Luke was surprised to see the beginnings of tears shining in her eyes. Two years ago she'd been mulling — he understood the joking reluctance and the whining about the unicorn stores, but why the hesitance to leave now, when there was even more in it for her and her family this time around?

"And Chris just doesn't get it," Lorelai sniffled, wiping at her eyes and drawing Luke from his curious stupor, "I don't want to go, and he's not hearing me. Or," she revised quietly, "he's hearing me and it doesn't matter to him."

His eyes falling closed, Luke set his jaw. Lorelai's words resonated, though the fact that they were intended to refer to Christopher fell on deaf ears. He'd had a lot of time in the past few months to dwell on where and how things had gone wrong with Lorelai. Her emotional ranting that night in the street had been confusing at best; to hear her package up the heart of their problems so neatly, even in reference to someone else, so concisely into two little sentences was something he hadn't been expecting.

Lorelai apparently took his silence and visible discomfort to be an effect of the mention of Christopher, for which she apologized in earnest. "Sorry," she winced, wiping the last relicts of tears from her eyes, "You don't want to hear all this. This is why I shouldn't tal-"

Holding up his hands in protest, Luke set her back on track. "Lorelai, it's fine," he insisted, trying to convince himself as much as her. "I'll listen to whatever you want to talk about," he assured, despite his better judgment, "but I don't know how much input I can have on something like this." He shrugged, "This is between you and-"

Lorelai acquiesced with a somber nod. "I know."

Through an unspoken understanding, Luke and Lorelai let the topic of Paris and Christopher fall to the wayside. Conversation for the remainder of the afternoon was considerably more comfortable, if a bit strained by the awareness, on both their parts, of the big French elephant in the room.

When Lorelai left an hour or so later, Luke forced a smile, sending her off with a to-go cup of coffee and a bag of doughnuts for Gigi. But once she and Paul Anka were out the door, the smile faded.

Glancing around the small apartment, Luke retreated over to April's side of the room and eased himself into the blue chair that Paul Anka had grown so fond of over the past few months. As he ran his hand aimlessly over his chin, Luke studied the blue polka-dotted sheets, the pink pillows, the science encyclopedia on the bedside table… Across the room, the TV he'd bought for Lorelai and her nightly Jon — or Patrick? - Stewart, the coffee cup sitting on the kitchen table that bore traces of her lipstick…

So Lorelai was leaving.

And April was leaving.

He had some thinking to do.

**To be continued…**


	6. Wednesday, April 4, 2007

**Because I don't think we know Lorelai's birthday exactly, and despite the later air date of 'Happy Birthday, Baby,' I've taken the liberty of picking a day to work with this story. April 3, 1968, I dub thee the birth date of Lorelai V. Gilmore. **

As always, thanks so much to reviewers for comments and support, and thanks to _**llano**_** for the beta and calling me on my playing favorites with certain words :)**

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****April 4, 2007**

Almost a month later, Luke sat stiffly at his kitchen table staring blankly at the modest spread before him. Even with Lorelai about to walk in the door at any moment, he still wasn't sure if it was appropriate. She'd always been the one to bring up her birthday in the past, constantly reminding him when it was, dropping subtle, and not-so-subtle, hints about what she wanted. Even before they'd been couple, she'd always dragged him out to whatever absurd gigantic-pizza sort of party that had been thrown for her. Not to mention the fact that she'd always made a bigger deal out of his own birthday than he'd ever wanted.

But now it was grayer territory; his last birthday had passed without fanfare given the fact that, at the time, they had barely spoken two words to each other since they broke up. Now, though… Now they were having coffee once a week, back to what you pretty much had to call friends. And it wasn't even as if her birthday had been over the weekend, evenly spaced between Wednesdays and ill-timed enough that he might have been able to let it pass without mention — no, it was just yesterday. How could he not acknowledge it at all?

Even then, what was appropriate? A card? Just a quick 'Hey, happy late birthday'? A gift? The small cake he'd made that was now sitting opposite him?

Had it been any other circumstances, he might have stuck with a generic card and the simple verbal well-wishing, and told himself that maybe next year they'd be more comfortable around each other again. And next year was the bigger birthday anyway.

The voice in the back of his head, however, as much as he tried to ignore it, kept nagging him that he might not get that chance once another 12 months had gone by, so he'd better push it a little harder this time around.

Luke sighed at the thought, wearily lifting his cap to run his hand through his hair. Absolutely no mention of Paris had been made since the first time Lorelai had brought it up, what — four? — weeks ago. She hadn't volunteered any more information on the subject, and Luke wasn't one to pry. Especially when he wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer.

It was difficult enough to handle April heading off to New Mexico with Anna. The last thing he needed to have to deal with mentally was the thought of Lorelai moving across the ocean for the happily ever after that had been coming for her and Christopher since they were sixteen. The longer he went without knowing for sure that she was leaving — although he had the sinking feeling that it was going to happen, regardless — the longer he could at least try and live in denial over that very likelihood. Ignorance is bliss, after all. And if it did turn out that she was moving, maybe she'd hold off on telling him until just before it happened. Rip the band-aid off quickly and all that, he reminded himself glumly.

Thankfully, Luke's rather depressing train of thought was soon interrupted by the door being flung open with a flourish. As he stood to greet Lorelai, despite his sullen mindset just a moment ago, he had to crack a smile at the sight of Paul Anka clambering towards him.

Lorelai stumbled in less than gracefully, spinning awkwardly to try and free herself from the tangle of Paul Anka's leash. "Hey…" she started hurriedly. Her words faded, her face transformed by surprise when she caught sight of Luke gesturing to the table. With a look of amazement, she turned to Luke as Paul Anka scampered away. "What the-?"

Luke just cleared his throat, nodding at the small bunch of balloons he'd tied to the handle of her coffee cup and the small cake just beside. "It's your last one, right?" He shrugged bashfully as he shifted his gaze down to the floor, oddly uncomfortable looking into Lorelai's eyes. By 'last one', even he wasn't sure whether he really meant it as the 'almost-40' joke he'd originally intended or if it was more a veiled leading question about that one particular topic that hadn't been broached in almost a month. "Might as well do something," he added, as nonchalantly as he could.

Whether she caught both meanings or not, Lorelai went along with the former. "Hey, I had the last one ten years ago — I am 29 forever," she corrected, laughing in response. Before Luke knew it, she had skipped her way giddily across the room and latched onto his arm excitedly. All of which made it rather hard for him to resist looking over at her. So he did. She was grinning widely, gazing up with wide eyes. "So whadja get me?" she demanded playfully.

Well, that wasn't how he had been planning on things going. But when had Lorelai been one to beat around the bush? Since she'd asked, Luke figured he might as well get it over with. Extricating himself from Lorelai's grip, he strode over to the kitchen counter, explaining as he went, "I know it's a day late but I figured you'd be…" He faltered slightly as he reached for the slim package. Even after the more candid conversations of recent weeks — Lorelai's mentions of Christopher becoming ever-so-slightly more and more frequent and casual — Luke still didn't have the easiest time verbalizing that particular aspect of her life, especially unprompted. Not that he was particularly proud of still being hung up on that issue… Shoving those thoughts aside in self-disgust, he finished hurriedly, "that you'd have other plans." Without much fanfare, he turned, holding the gift out to Lorelai. She, however, had become preoccupied with sneaking frosting as inconspicuously as she could, and failed to notice the package. With a weak cough to catch her attention, Luke forced himself closer to her field of view. "Here," he muttered gruffly.

Lorelai's jaw dropped immediately. "Luke, I was joking…" She protested, her gaze flitting nervously between Luke and the small gift as her cheeks flushed crimson. "You didn't have to…"

"I know," Luke admitted with a reluctant sigh, "I wasn't going to. Well, the cake, yes," he corrected, "but… April and I were out looking for a sleeping bag for her and a bigger tent for us when we go camping next time she's in town," he explained. "There aren't a whole lot of things in an outdoor equipment store that scream you, but those did," he nodded, gesturing to Lorelai as she began tearing off the wrapping paper. As she did so, he added, "I couldn't _not_ get-"

Lorelai cut him off, her voice hushed with awe. "They're folding dishes," she exclaimed in wonder.

Luke, still hesitant and a bit unsure if giving your ex-fiancée any gift at all was kosher, quickly put forth a loophole, offering, "I can bring th-"

"No!" Lorelai cried. "Luke, they're folding dishes," she repeated, as if he somehow wouldn't already be aware of that fact. "Which is quite possibly the most bizarre thing I have ever seen," she added, giving the dishes a curious once-over. But, stifling a smile, she assured Luke "I'm never eating out of anything else again," with weighty solemnity.

In spite of himself, Luke had to chuckle at that — it was that sort of reaction he would have expected her to have had she found such an oddity in the store on her own. And exactly why he'd not been able to _not_ get them for her.

Clutching the dishes to her chest, Lorelai's joking façade faded. "Thank you," she said quietly, her eyes boring into Luke's.

In any other year — absolutely _any_ other of the ten of her birthdays that he'd been around for — that moment, that look from her, would have lent itself to a friendly hug, a kiss, even a plain old touch to the arm. But now? Luke hesitated, wavering for a moment, before deciding that none of those would really be appropriate. Luke just dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement, offering a simple, "Happy birthday, Lorelai."

Even so, Lorelai held his gaze for what seemed to be a second too long. When Luke finally looked away, it was her turn to cough an awkward transition, choking out a forced "So what kind of cake? Just lots of chocolate?" she inquired with false brightness. "And can I eat it out of my snazzy new origami plate?"

"It's black fores-" Luke started to reply, intending to highlight the fruit content of the cake, however nutritionally void the sugar had rendered it. But what stopped him short was the glimpse he caught over Lorelai's shoulder of what she must have set down near the door as she's been fighting with Paul Anka's leash. "Planning on doing some celebrating of your own?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows in the direction of the two 6-packs — Sam Adams and Corona — left sitting abandoned on the floor.

"What?" Lorelai's own brow furrowed, her confusion over the sudden subject shift apparent. Whirling around to see what Luke was pointing at, she quickly caught up. Sheepish, she spluttered, "Oh, no, I…" before trailing off. "I know you said April and Anna were moving last weekend," she explained carefully, "I thought maybe you could use something a little stronger than your usual tea."

"Ah." Luke didn't know how else to respond to that — with the focus thus far on Lorelai and her birthday, he couldn't say he wasn't taken aback by the fact that she'd remembered that April was leaving and had had the forethought to try and cheer him up. He honestly hadn't expected it. Not that he didn't appreciate it…

Which apparently wasn't getting across to Lorelai, who began apologizing pretty quickly at the lack of response on his part. "If you don't-" she began, only to get cut off by a smirk from Luke as he held up his hand to quiet her.

Pulling open the refrigerator, he gestured down to the bottom shelf where a 12-pack of Labatts sat, minus, at most, four or so bottles. "I got a head start after I got back from the airport," Luke confessed.

Lorelai's first reaction was an impressed giggle as she caught sight of the beers, but as she brought hers over to trade for the cold ones, she sobered, promising sympathetically, "She'll be back before you know it."

Luke laughed at that. "Funny, I don't remember you saying that when we left Rory at Yale and you drove back an hour later," he remarked pointedly, taking the two 6-packs from Lorelai with a raised eyebrow.

Though Luke could tell her first instinct was to fight him on that, Lorelai's face quickly ran the gamut from petulant defiance to scrambling for any words and finally to a resigned pout. "Fine," she scowled, "it sucked. And April leaving sucks. Which is why you need these," she pointed out, reaching for the two beers he had removed from the fridge. She nudged one back in his direction, pausing slightly before proposing, "So, beer and cake from fold-y dishes?"

Luke regarded both the beer and Lorelai with mild amusement. Reaching for the bottle with a shrug, he agreed, "Why not?"

So they'd clinked bottles and started in on the beer. Lorelai immediately dug into the cake, even more giddy about the silly folding plates than Luke had expected. They put a dent in the small cake rather quickly — he helped a little, but she was Lorelai, after all — and the number of beers in the refrigerator began to dwindle eventually as well. They did their usual catch-up on each others tales from the past week — Kirk had apparently submitted an application to be a nanny for Lane's kids — and though she'd held out until a few beers in, Luke finally got Lorelai to admit that the big 4-0 awaited her next year.

Lorelai, in turn, pouted over the fact that he'd been able to get that out of her and vowed revenge. After relentless insistence from Lorelai, Luke finally gave in and allowed her to bring out the checkers Gigi and April had played a few weeks before — you have to have _games_ at birthdays, she'd whined. Of course, she'd wanted to play poker first, but the only deck of cards that Luke currently knew the location of was one missing three fours, a seven, and a king. They'd been MIA since probably over a year ago, when an ill-fated attempt by Lorelai to build one of those card houses while waiting less than patiently for him to close up the diner one night had resulted in cards careening everywhere. They were probably stuck under the refrigerator or something, but Luke had never bothered to look — needless to say, once he'd made it upstairs the night they'd gotten lost, the two of them had found something far more entertaining to do than moving the refrigerator.

Talking about Lorelai's _current_ relationship was still taking some getting used to; rehashing certain parts of her _last_ one, considering he'd been the one she'd been… _relating_… with, wasn't exactly something Luke was comfortable with yet either, so instead of bringing up the reason for the lost cards, he'd reminded her of the checkers.

Once he'd brought it up, he couldn't _not_ play, so checkers quickly joined beer, cake, and fold-y plates as part of the impromptu birthday festivities. The one game he agreed to play quickly became a best-of-three, then a best-of-five when he won the first instead of Lorelai.

It was about halfway through game six or seven when Lorelai, staring intently at the board in anticipation of her next move, tried to take a sip of beer, only to find her bottle empty. She giggled drunkenly, peering into the bottle to verify its lack of contents, and ended up bumping her nose on it.

Luke snorted at the sight, only slightly less tipsy that Lorelai.

After glaring at both the bottle and Luke, Lorelai squinted in his direction, "S'there more?"

"Two, I think. Maybe…" Luke replied after a moment, less than confident in his inebriated mental math. "You have to go home soon though," he noted, only now realizing that there was no longer any sunlight streaming in the windows.

"Psh. Home shmome," Lorelai scoffed, pulling herself up unsteadily from the couch and weaving her way over to the refrigerator.

Luke eyed her skeptically from across the room. "And he'll be okay with it if you show up drunk," he inquired, the name of the aforementioned 'he' unnecessary. "After being here?"

"I don't care what he thinks today," Lorelai declared as she grabbed the last two beers. "S'my birthday and he got me another freakin' flat screen that I didn't want and April left and you needed some beer."

Though he was surprised by the hostility he heard in the beginning of Lorelai's statement, Luke forced himself to not read too far in to what a little animosity towards her husband might mean. Or didn't mean. Probably didn't mean, he reminded himself. Instead he quizzed her playfully on his supposed need for beer, "I did?"

"Uh huh," Lorelai confirmed with a giggle as she flopped down on the couch next to him, adding, "And you need another one too," as she shoved one of the last two bottles in his hand.

Given the number of beers he already had in him, Luke was in no position to refuse. "If you say so," he replied, already popping the top off the bottle.

Lorelai grinned triumphantly as he did so, proclaiming, "I _do_ say so."

Her declaration didn't exactly beg for a response, and Luke didn't have much to offer in the way of words, so he just sat there, content for the moment to just drink his beer. Or not so content, actually, he reminded himself, given that the reason for the beer, at least initially, was because April had moved.

"Luke…" Lorelai nudged him gently with her elbow, drawing him from his stupor.

He turned to face her, finding her silly exuberance over beers gone, replaced by expression of hers that was almost painfully sympathetic. Even now, she could still read him so well sometimes, Luke mused.

"Nothing changes just because she doesn't live here now," Lorelai urged softly. "You're still her dad."

Luke just rolled his eyes and humored her sarcastically, "Right."

"You are," Lorelai insisted, placing what was likely meant to be a comforting hand on his arm.

But Luke just shrugged her off; he hadn't been kidding earlier when he'd pointed out Lorelai's separation anxiety over Rory simply moving an hour or so down the road to New Haven. She had no clue what it was like to have your kid yanked away from you to live across the country. "I got a year," he challenged her. "That hardly makes me anything more than a sperm donor."

Luke could tell Lorelai was taken aback; her jaw dropped at his harsh words, and all she was able to muster up was a weakly contradictory, "Luke…"

"I didn't get her as a kid," Luke pointed out forcibly, "I didn't get her as a teenager, I didn't get her when she was a baby-"

"But you'll still see her," Lorelai blurted out in earnest. "And that doesn't mean you won't get that with another kid."

Luke snorted in disbelief, "Right. Believe me, I've tried dating. Vegan swim coaches and everything," he added, momentarily forgetting that his recent dating escapades were territory that he and Lorelai had yet to cover since they'd begun talking again. "I'm not gonna be anyone else's dad," he confirmed darkly with a defeated roll of his eyes, "don't worry."

"You dat-" Lorelai started, surprise all over her face. For split second, Luke felt almost smug. He kind of hoped the fact that he'd dated stung her even a fraction of what he'd felt upon seeing that ring on her finger during April's appendectomy. If she felt much of anything, she hid it well; Luke had to give her points for her quickly stammered cover-up of "You don't- You don't need someone else to have a kid."

"I think biology would say otherwise," Luke countered incredulously. "Turkey basters don't exactly work for fathers," he pointed out with a scowl.

Lorelai frowned thoughtfully. "You could… adopt," she eventually said. "Or get a surrogate or something. Like in a Lifetime movie," she continued with a bubbly laugh. "The sexy, single dad and then the birth mother goes nuts and-"

"I don't want that," Luke snapped.

Wide-eyed with contrition, Lorelai shrank back from him, toning down the silliness considerably. "Sorry, I was kidding," she apologized. "You know Lifetime exaggera-"

Less harshly than the first time, Luke repeated himself, feeling slightly badly for practically yelling at her, "I don't want it like that. I want the…" What _did_ he want? That question gave him pause, the alcohol-induced cloudiness of his though process playing no small part in that. "Whatever you said that time," he finally admitted honestly, "the whole package, big picture, whatever." With a shrug, he added despondently, "It's not gonna happen."

It didn't appear that Lorelai had much of a response for that, perhaps a little too uncomfortable with the subject at hand to get any words out. Even in his drunken haze, Luke was pretty sure that this was a topic that you weren't supposed to go near with an ex, especially when you had more than a few beers in you. Then again, that's why he was even saying that kind of stuff in the first place — a little drinking, or a lot, technically, always seemed to help get the words moving, he supposed. Wasn't that why she'd brought the beer in the first place? Because he was moping around about April being gone? Well, Lorelai was just going to have to deal with it, because this was just his moping in full-swing. Hell, the current portion of the mope-fest was her fault anyway, Luke slowly came to realize. He would have had that whole package were it not for her running off to have it with the asshole at the first sign of a bump in the road bigger than a speedbump. Fuck that, Luck scowled, she doesn't get to clam up and suddenly have nothing to say just because he brought up wanting more. He sat through all the Christopher bullshit, didn't he? If she felt badly about screwing up his chances at the whole package, why did it matter to him? Damned if he cared if she felt guilty about it. Hell, if she didn't feel guilty, she should.

"You got yours, though," Luke stated suddenly, and not without a lingering bitterness in his tone. His train of thought had led him to a rather resentful place — a place where the logic held that if she wasn't feeling guilty yet, he could certainly try and shove her a little further in that direction. "You should be happy," he spat in Lorelai's direction, "you've got it."

If there had been anything in the apartment making any sort of noise at all, Luke never would have heard what Lorelai whispered next. As it was, he half figured it was just the wishful thinking of his beer-soaked mind causing him to hear what he could have sworn was an immediate refute of his assertion — the softest, yet most vehement "I don't want it" possible.

Luke's eyes went wide as the weight of Lorelai's words hit him. There was no way she'd said what he thought she'd said. Jerking around quickly to face her, an astonished "What?" fell from his lips.

Lorelai just sat there, slowly peeling the label from her beer. "Uh…nother kid," she amended hurriedly without looking up at him, still picking at the bottle label. "I don't think I want another kid. Gigi's little," she stammered, her cheeks flushing even redder than the alcohol had made them. "We're…. It's…. No," she finished firmly, if a little awkwardly.

Luke nodded dumbly, feeling slightly silly for having jumped to conclusions over what she'd meant initially. She'd just meant a kid. Made sense enough for him, he guessed, that they wouldn't have another one. Neither one of the two kids the asshole already had was planned; he was probably never a kid guy in the first place. Why trump tradition now and actually try for one? The already had one together — genetically, anyway, if not in the sense of the actual raising of the kid — already, so they didn't need another. Of course that's what she meant. What else would she have meant?

He downed the rest of his beer in two gulps.

And then he just sat there, staring off into space, chastising himself for feeling oddly let down simply because her words hadn't meant exactly what he'd thought — hoped — they did. Stupid, he cursed himself inwardly. And who was he to complain about Lorelai getting her whole package with her jackass husband; he could have gone to Maryland with her right away, but he hadn't. And when he hadn't she'd found a replacement.

Either way, between the bipolar jumps from resenting her for moving on and stupidly thinking that her marriage might be having problems, this'd be the last time he let himself drink around her, that was for sure.

Luke had no idea how long he'd zoned out thinking along those lines, but suddenly Lorelai broke the silence. She spoke up in a low, hollow voice, forcing out awkwardly, "I think Paul Anka probably has to go out again."

Luke nodded weakly. "Ok."

Another moment went by, after which Lorelai, still on the couch, reiterated monotonously, "I should go."

"Ok…" Luke repeated, trailing off curiously. He turned, giving Lorelai an odd look. Why she hadn't just gotten up and gone the first time she'd said anything was beyond him, but once she was back in his line of vision, there was no question about it — she was still curled up at the other end of the couch, her legs folded awkwardly beneath her, her back stiff and straight as she clutched her empty beer bottle and stared blankly off into space.

"Ok," Lorelai said again softly, this time slowly unfurling herself and cautiously making her way over to Paul Anka.

Though still slightly mystified by her odd behavior, Luke stood and headed over to the kitchen. Collecting her folding plates from where he'd set them to dry after cleaning off the frosting residue, he tossed them into a plastic bag for her. "You okay getting home?" he called out, approaching her with the bag and a tupperware container.

"He knows the way," Lorelai said hurriedly, her gaze darting around the room.

Luke frowned, not quite able to put his finger on what had spurred her suddenly tense demeanor. "Ok," he shrugged, handing her both her dishes as well as the afternoon's leftovers. "Take the rest of the cake," he instructed.

Still looking down at her feet, at Paul Anka, anywhere but up at him, Lorelai nodded and muttered a quick, "Thanks." As an afterthought, she did glance up at Luke for a split second, "And thanks for the…" She trailed off, indicating what she meant with a half-hearted wave of her bag or origami dishes.

"Welcome," Luke replied in turn. Before she could escape out the door, he added a bashful, "And thanks for, ya know, the April thing." Weird mood or not, he still wanted to thank her for remembering that the past week hadn't exactly been the easiest for him.

Lorelai paused in the doorframe, finally focusing on Luke, her eyes now boring into his. "You're still her dad, Luke," she insisted fiercely, "She's _not_ going to forget that. And she gets to visit," she reminded him.

"I know," Luke acknowledged, though not completely convinced.

She flashed him a ghost of a smile and turned once again to head down the stairs with Paul Anka. Luke was already closing the door when she paused thoughtfully, turning around to confirm timidly, "Next week?"

Luke nodded with a grin, "Bring your cup."

Lorelai's smile broadened. "'K," she agreed. And, wisely clutching the railing, lest she add to the forthcoming hangover headache by falling drunkenly down the stairs, Lorelai and Paul Anka headed off.

Back up in the apartment, Luke still had enough of his bearings about him to begin collecting up the array of beer bottles that littered the coffee and kitchen tables. As he swept up Lorelai's pile of abandoned label scraps, it wasn't his confusion over her bizarre behavior that was on his mind — that was just Lorelai being Lorelai, he decided. Or Lorelai being Drunk Lorelai. Or something.

No, he was no longer preoccupied with Lorelai; rather he was preoccupied with his apparent preoccupation with Lorelai. Up until an hour or so ago, he'd been fine with their situation, fine with having her as a friend, fine with blowing up a couple of balloons, fine with making her a cake and buying her a stupid birthday present. But now? Now he was starting to wonder if it wasn't just a little pathetic. Pathetic that there he was, getting far more excited than he should have been over the simple fact that she'd mentioned not liking the birthday present her husband got her. Pathetic that he was still dwelling on little things like that and doing all the birthday shit for her when he had a daughter who no longer lived in the same state. A daughter who had a birthday coming up that he would be missing.

Abandoning the clean-up process, Luke sank back down on the couch cradling his head in his hands. He felt one hell of a pounding headache threatening, and he was only half sure it was a result of the alcohol. More confused than ever, he had to wonder — what the fuck was he doing with his life?

**To be continued…**


	7. Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Apologies for the delay - summer never slows down quite as much as you think it will. As always, thanks a million to reviewers and to _llano_ for the insightful beta.

**April 18, 2007**

Two weeks later, Lorelai and Paul Anka bounded cheerfully up the stairs at the diner. Luke, apparently dealing with some sort of cooking oil crisis, — all Lorelai had been able to make out from his grumblings was 'deep-fryer,' 'leaking,' and 'Exxon-Valdez' — had happened to be making a trip out back to the dumpster when she had arrived, and had instructed her to just head up and get her own coffee going since he was going to be a few more minutes.

Lorelai had tried to convince him otherwise, to just let Caesar deal with whatever happened, but the death stare she'd been on the receiving end of was ultimately enough to get her upstairs on her own. Which was fine, she supposed — she'd get the coffee faster that way. Although it wouldn't be quite the same without the Luke-touch he had about his coffee-making. But it had been a long day at the in Inn. Not quite on the level of the environmental disaster that Luke was making whatever had happened downstairs out to be, but of the top ten things she'd wanted to do at work that day, playing hide-and-seek with the left-behind video game of some guests from the previous weekend was not one of them. The stupid Gameboy, or whatever the hell the stupid thing was called, game cartridge was nowhere to be found, not in the room they'd used, not anywhere, and not by the maids, not by the bellboys, not by Michel, and certainly not by her. A point she'd tried to get across to the mother of the kid who left the stupid game when she'd called from wherever the family had moved onto, but to no avail. After about twenty phone calls to check on the status of the desperate search for the game, Lorelai had been about five seconds from putting her head through a wall. Of course, she didn't get quite that far, since, with perfect timing, Sookie had gotten a call about Davey getting sick at preschool. She'd had to run to get him, leaving the kitchen in turmoil over how to proceed with plans for dinner. So by the time Lorelai had been able to duck out to get to Luke's, she was in such dire need of his coffee, she couldn't have cared less if it was him or Dalai Lama who made the stuff for her.

Well, no, Lorelai had to admit as she let herself into Luke's apartment, that wasn't strictly true — she did need the coffee, yes, but she'd also been shortchanged on her one-on-one Luke-time the Wednesday before, so she did hope that he wouldn't be stuck downstairs for too long. Last week had been great, no doubt about that, but strange — April and Gigi version 2.0…

Given that she and Chris had managed to forge some sort of preliminary agreement on the whole Paris thing, he'd been off in France doing the first round of apartment hunting. Normally, Lorelai would have insisted on having some input on that sort of thing, but she was only going to end up being there a few months of the year, so it wasn't a huge deal that she wasn't helping him find something. It would have been more of a big deal of she hadn't stayed and had left the Inn in a lurch with the influx of spring tourists to deal with.

Filling the carafe with water, Lorelai conceded to herself with a sigh that, no, she still wasn't completely sure about the whole Paris arrangement — Gigi in France almost 100 of the time, Chris there 75 of the time, and her there 25 of the time, the reverse for them as far as Stars Hollow went… It all added up to seeing her husband only half the time over the course of a given year, which probably wasn't exactly ideal considering they were technically still practically newlyweds and should be starting a life together, yadda, yadda, yadda. But then again, having Chris and Gigi around full-time had been somewhat akin to culture shock after it having been just her and Rory for so long. Lorelai was ashamed to admit that it might be kind of nice to get a break from having Chris around all the time. Not that he was around 100 of the time now anyway — between his trips to France and the vaguely described excursions to California to see his 'buddies,' Lorelai was pretty sure they were only hovering somewhere around 70 when it came to percentage of time spent in the same zip code. She was also pretty sure that Chris was less than content with the 'half together, half apart arrangement,' as he'd been pulling out all the stops in trying to get her to consider moving to Paris full-time and open an Inn in France instead. But she'd dug her heels in, steadfast on her stance that she was not going to abandon Stars Hollow and the Dragonfly. Of course, fighting had ensued. Repeatedly. But in the end, she'd worn Chris down and he'd given in, although only with the stipulation that it was a trial arrangement and that amounts of time spent where could be adjusted in the future. Lorelai wasn't stupid; she knew he was hoping she'd fall in love with France and eventually forget the ties to Stars Hollow. And maybe she would. But that could be dealt with later.

Whatever. Lorelai shrugged off any feelings of guilt or unease as she turned to pour the water into the coffee maker. It was what it was. The France arrangement — and the present one, actually — kept Chris out of her hair enough for her to keep things running smoothly at the Inn and to really start thinking about the restaurant venture they were getting serious about embarking on. Sookie was already gung-ho with the planning of new menus and recipes that were a departure from the 'quaint country inn' repertoire she was suddenly claiming she'd been tied to in the past. Lorelai couldn't help but crack a smile. Yeah, it was definitely a good thing she was sticking around Stars Hollow.

Plus she'd get to keep up this Wednesday thing, slowly trying to make her way back to actually being friends with Luke, no holds barred. And, right — that, Lorelai realized suddenly, that was how she'd gotten lost on that Paris mental track for the past — how long? She glanced over at the clock on Luke's microwave — probably ten-ish minutes. Her eyes widened slightly at that realization, and she glanced around the apartment on the improbable chance that Luke had magically slipped in without her noticing at all. Negative on that, she confirmed to herself. Where the hell was he? How bad could a little kitchen spill be?

After another moment of staring impatiently at the apartment door, there was still no sign of Luke appearing any time soon, so Lorelai let herself drift back off into her thoughts as the coffee gurgled beside her.

Yeah, still being able to see Luke would be nice. That was the whole reason she was sort of impatient about him getting up there from the kitchen — last week, the April and Gigi thing had been sort of odd, and hadn't left her with much chance to talk to him.

With Chris apartment hunting, she'd been left with the task of getting Gigi to and from preschool. She'd just picked the kid up last week and had been heading in the direction of Luke's when she'd gotten a frantic call from him on her cell phone — April, back in town for Easter break, was at Marcia's house in Woodbridge, and Luke had gone to run some errands in Hartford before picking her up in time to make it back to the diner for Lorelai and Gigi. But he'd gotten stuck behind a massive pile-up — in a construction zone to boot — on the turnpike and there was no way he'd be able to get to April at the time he'd promised Marcia's mother, never mind making it back to the diner, so was there any way at all that maybe Lorelai could go grab April and keep her entertained until he managed to escape the traffic and get back to Stars Hollow, and oh, he could call Marcia's mother to let her know that it wouldn't be him picking her up, and please, it would be doing him and April a huge favor?

Needless to say, Lorelai had been absolutely flabbergasted, but of course, she'd readily agreed and had pulled over to hastily jot down directions to Marcia's. It was just the last thing she'd ever expected given her exclusion from all things April even when she'd been with Luke, to say nothing of the fact she hadn't even known April was back from New Mexico already — hadn't she just left the week before? Regardless, she'd picked April up without incident, aside from the incredulous feeling she had the entire time driving back to Stars Hollow with both Gigi and April yammering away in the back of Christopher's Volvo. Not that the feeling had subsided later; she'd brought both girls back to her place, ordering pizza and sticking in a DVD when an update from Luke indicated that he'd still been getting nowhere fast. The surrealism of the day had only increased when Luke finally did make it back to the Hollow and took it upon himself to snare a seat on the couch and ensconce himself in the girls' DVD-fest when April declared that she could not possibly leave until having seen the end of the second Willy Wonka/Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, for the sake of an accurate and comprehensive analysis and critique, of course.

As much as she loved the movies, Lorelai had only been able to gape at the wholly bizarre sight of Luke, Luke's daughter, and _Christopher's_ daughter, all mesmerized by Gene Wilder's frizzy hair as they sat on the couch in the house she shared with Christopher. If she'd thought she could have gotten away with taking a picture, she would have, because there was absolutely no way Rory would believe her without visual proof. And even then she'd probably have accused Lorelai of Photoshop-ing the evidence, regardless of the fact that the world of graphics manipulation was light-years beyond her computer capabilities.

So between last week and the week before, Lorelai felt that hadn't really had a chance to catch up with Luke himself. Technically she was sure they talked quite a bit during the whole drunken-birthday-bash-slash-mope-fest, but she couldn't actually remember much of any of whatever it was they talked about, so she wasn't counting that. Plus she kind of wanted to apologize about that week as well — if Luke had woken up with half the hangover she had, he'd have been in bad shape.

But, God, what the hell was taking him so long? She'd go down and see how things were going, but they'd stuck to the 'upstairs only' routine for so long, she wasn't sure how it would go over if she suddenly appeared in the diner proper. Not that she didn't stop in to grab a coffee to-go every once in a while anyway, not that they were hiding anything — Chris knew, and Lord knows that even though she'd been coming in the back door every Wednesday, Lorelai wasn't exactly stealthy and Tillie or Babette or Patty surely had seen her at some point. But wandering into the diner would force her to explain herself to those same gossipmongers face to face, which she didn't exactly want to do. And Luke never liked her behind the counter anyway, and that was where she'd have to go if she was going to track him down and find out the status of the clean-up operation.

So upstairs she stayed. Patience had never been one of Lorelai's strong points, however, and fidgeting at the kitchen table with her long since ready cup of coffee lost its luster pretty quickly. She glanced around, not really seeing much in the way of entertainment aside from the TV — then again, what was she expecting? Mug in hand, and Luke still absent, Lorelai pulled herself to her feet and meandered over towards the television.

After flipping through the rather meager selection that Luke's basic cable subscription offered, she sighed, shifting restlessly on her feet. How much of a mess could there be downstairs? Lorelai abandoned the remote control, turning instead to head towards April's half of the apartment. The brightly patterned bedding offsetting the microscope perched next to a stack of rather scientific-looking texts; it wasn't all that different from another room just across town, laden with novels by obscure Russian authors, old Bangles tapes and a ratty, well-loved Care Bear and stuffed chicken adorning the adjacent shelf. Lorelai felt an odd, and unexpected, to say the least, ache in her chest as she gazed around. April and Rory were so much alike — much more so than Rory and Gigi — yet had never gotten the chance to really know each other, much less end up step-sisters, because of their respective parents' unfailing ability to screw things up on a colossal level.

She squeezed her eyes shut quickly, forcing the visual of April's belongings from her brain as she turned her back on that half of the apartment. The relationship that the erstwhile step-sisters-to-be didn't have was neither here nor there; Chris and Gigi were the addendum to the Gilmore Girls' family tree, and April had moved away, which would have probably happened regardless.

In trying to ignore the 'coulda, woulda, shoulda's with respect to April, Gigi, and Rory, Lorelai unwittingly found herself wandering across the apartment than she had since Before — to Luke's bedroom. Or bedroom area, as it were. Plaid sheets still adorning the bed, she noted with a wry smile, in spite of the pattern clashing horribly with the polka dots April had sprinkled in various forms about the rest of the place. That pang in her chest was back, though not quite so unexpected in this half of the apartment. Yeah, it really did look as if no time at all had passed since… Well, since she was a welcome visitor in more places than just on the couch or at the kitchen table.

Letting her eyes fall shut, Lorelai sighed wistfully. So many things could have been different. But it was what it was, right? Things just hadn't worked out. She'd moved on, and there was no sense in dwelling in the past — she could no more go back and change how things had worked — _not_ worked — out with Luke than she could go back and un-do the ridiculously unflattering perm she'd gotten in 1988 when she'd scraped together a few dollars to treat herself to a little pampering on her twentieth birthday. Things happened and all you could do was look back on them fondly, or not-so fondly, as was the case with the poodle-y curls she'd been forced to suffer through until they'd grown out enough to be chopped off.

Lorelai opened her eyes once more, resolved, at least temporarily, to just stop thinking so much about things that had gone on in the past. Truth was, there was going to be plenty to do with respect to the future anyway — Sookie was convinced she'd come up with a solid theme for the new restaurant, and given that this idea had stuck around for about three days, as opposed to the three hours, max, of previous ideas, Lorelai was inclined to think that maybe Sookie was actually on to something and plans should start moving forward in a more concrete sense. Plus, of course, there was France. According to the plan, Lorelai would be off to Paris in a few months. There was shopping to be done! And croissants to be had! Not to mention a ton of perfectly French café au lait.

Thoughts of coffee got Lorelai wondering once more where the heck Luke was. Finally about to trump the tradition of the past few months and just march right into the diner to get him, she was just turning to head towards the door when some papers resting on Luke's nightstand caught her eye.

In her experience, Luke was a nightstand minimalist. Lamp, check. Alarm clock, sure. His watch, and maybe the baseball hat if he hadn't taken it off already, when he went to bed, fine. In the small drawer, just a pen, a pad of paper, and, at least when she'd been in the picture, whatever they'd needed for any bedroom escapades.

But not so much in the way of reading material, books or otherwise. So a sizeable sheaf of papers that looked to have some brightly colored images printed on them was a bit of an oddity for Luke.

Curious, Lorelai inched closer to the nightstand and peered over towards the papers. To her surprise and bewilderment, at least the top sheet was a printout of a real estate listing.

"A two-bedroom duplex?" she exclaimed to herself aloud, her face wrinkling in confusion. Snatching up the stack, she flipped through the pages that followed: another duplex, some two-bedroom apartments, a few three-bedroom houses, still another duplex. And all in New Mexico. Mostly Albuquerque, but also some other towns she didn't recognize. Although, according to the fact sheets, all were quite near Albuquerque. 'Perfect for commuting,' apparently.

Questions clouded Lorelai's mind as she stood, frozen in place, still scanning through the papers. The only people Luke knew in Albuquerque were April and Anna, obviously. And they'd been down there for how long already? What, had Anna been so desperate to yank April away from Luke that she'd moved them down there without even having a place to move to? Was the poor kid stuck living in a hotel so far or something? And what, was Luke helping them find a place or something? That hardly made sense since they were the ones down there who could look and see if the places were what they wanted. And if Anna had been such a pain in the ass throughout the whole custody proceeding, why the hell was Luke helping find a place anyway?

She was still pondering the absurdity of Luke helping Anna when Luke himself finally decided to grace the apartment with his presence. The door flew open, causing Lorelai to startle slightly. Not even taking notice of the fact that he'd essentially caught Lorelai snooping around where she really had no business being, he just marched right past her towards his dresser and the bathroom. Greasy patches visible on his clothes made it pretty obvious that his intent was to change into cleaner ones, but Lorelai was still too befuddled by the rental listings in New Mexico to let him go about that task in peace.

"So I thought you weren't really getting along with Anna, with the whole custody thing," she remarked casually, adding somewhat snidely at Anna's expense, "And what, they don't have a place down there yet after how long?"

"I'm not," Luke replied absently as he yanked off his oil-spattered flannel. "And they do," he confirmed, asking curiously after a pause as he yanked clean clothes from a drawer, "why?"

As she glanced up from the papers she held, Lorelai waved a few sheets in Luke's direction. "The apartment listings here for Albuquerque," she clarified, "you're helping her look fo…" Her voice faded first at the sight of Luke, shirt-less, just beginning to pull a new t-shirt over his head. What kept her vocal cords from kicking back into gear a beat later, however, was the unmistakable expression Luke wore along with that new shirt when his face emerged from beneath the fabric. Guilt.

Though she recognized the expression, nothing could have prepared her for the underlying reason for that guilt; panicked and 'deer-in-the-headlights' at first, followed by a sheepishly muttered, "They're for me."

"They're for you," Lorelai repeated, dumbstruck, her brain unable to process the implications of the statement right away. There hadn't even been a question in her mind two minutes ago — he'd had the listings to help Anna. That's all. A moment later she managed to squeak out a strangled, "They're in Albuquerque? For you?"

Visibly less perturbed than Lorelai by the notion of Albuquerque, Luke shrugged. "Your husb- Christopher is right," he admitted.

"I'm sorry, what?" Lorelai choked out in disbelief. First Albuquerque, now Christopher? Two minutes ago she'd be fine, just waiting for Luke. Now the room seemed to be spinning around her and she had no idea what to think. She _couldn't_ think.

Luke continued, rather nonchalant in his demeanor, "There's something else I agree with him on. Gigi shouldn't have to be stuck getting shuffled between her parents."

Lorelai eyed him incredulously, her expression quite clearly conveying a 'What the hell does Gigi have to do with anything?' sentiment.

"Neither should April," Luke clarified.

Oh. _Oh_. Lorelai's eyes fell shut once more as she forced herself to try and take deep calming breaths. It didn't work. "So you're moving to New Mexico?" she finally breathed, pained and unable to process the implications of such a move, her eyes wide once more and full of unspoken questions.

By design or not, Luke acknowledged none of the unease in Lorelai's voice, confirming simply in a rather nonchalant manner, "Thinking about it, yeah."

"But Luke…" Lorelai stammered, fishing hopelessly for words that would not come. "Stars Hollow…" she added, trailing off plaintively.

Luke eyed her with what looked like the beginnings of exasperation. "There's nothing for me here," he stated flatly. "Not like April. She's my daughter, she's my family."

"But Liz and TJ-" Lorelai began spluttering in vain protest, valiantly fighting to ignore the insistent _Me! I'm here! _that threatened from somewhere deep inside.

"Are going to be traveling with the Faire doing pewter and jewelry stuff until Doula's in school," Luke finished resolutely.

Lorelai cut right back in immediately, "Bu-"

"That's 5 years before they're back in Stars Hollow on a more permanent basis," Luke countered, cutting her off once more, "so I'd barely see them even if I was here. 5 years and April will be in college anyway," he rationalized curtly. "Depending on where she goes, I can figure myself out from there, but for now, I might as well try and spend as much time with her as I can, right?"

"Well, yeah, but…," Lorelai trailed off. He _did_ have a point… But… He couldn't just _leave_… "But what about the diner?" she finally managed to blurt out.

"Caesar can run things," Luke replied calmly. "He was fine when I went on that math trip. Except the banana thing," he amended under his breath before continuing with his rationale. "Lane will be back on her feet soon, I've got Zach and the other guys as waiters. Hell, if they need help that badly, they can hire Kirk for all I care if I'm not around." Counting on his fingers for emphasis, Luke reasoned aloud, "For money? One, I'll still have my part of the revenue as owner, and, two, as Taylor's landlord with the ice cream place. That's enough. Three, I could always find the odd construction or restaurant job while I'm down there," he finished, a slightest hint of smugness creeping into his expression as he leaned casually on the kitchen chair nearest him.

"Oh," Lorelai breathed, defeated and overwhelmingly dismayed. He'd thought about it. Really thought about it. He had an answer for everything, and damn it all to hell, the answers made perfect sense. But Luke was _leaving_. For good. _Luke_. _Leaving_. 

Whether it was her reaction that caused Luke's resolve to waver slightly, she couldn't even begin to process. But she could have sworn she heard his voice catch in his throat the slightest bit as he stammered out, "It's still kind of up in the air, but…" As quickly as the chink in the armor appeared, it fizzled out like the mirage it probably was. With a quick clearing of his throat, Luke let go of the chair and stood tall, squaring his shoulders confidently as he said with finality, "Well, now you know."

Now she knew, Lorelai's brain echoed numbly. Now she knew. And that was that, apparently. Before she even knew what was happening, she heard herself choking out a rather polite, "I'm sure April will be happy." Luke didn't even get the chance to nod in agreement when a hurried onslaught of excuses came tumbling from Lorelai's mouth, "Uh, I can't really stay. I have to call Sookie about the restaurant plans. And Paul Anka drank a lot of water, so he probably has to pee. And Chris and Gigi are going to be back early, so I should…"

Luke eyed her skeptically, but limited his response to a brief, "Yeah, sure."

"Come on Paul Anka," Lorelai called, anxiously clipping on the dog's leash once he made it to her side. Gesturing over to the coffee maker, she mumbled a quick "Uh, thanks" before yanking the door open.

Still watching curiously, Luke stepped back lest he get tangled in Paul Anka's leash, and offered a muted "Bye."

"Yeah," Lorelai replied absently, already halfway out the door.

Upstairs with the apartment door close behind her, she congratulated herself on her impressive ability to make it out the apartment door still relatively composed. The trip down the stairs and out the back door was another story — once out the back door, the onslaught of tears was in full force. Big hiccupping, gulping-for-air sobs that shook her entire body. Lorelai stood for a moment, there in the back alley, Luke's truck parked just beside her, bracing herself against the chilly wind. The only coherent thought in her head aside from 'Luke's leaving' being that public meltdowns, though already on her resume, were not ideal. She had to get home. But in practice, her feet simply had lost the ability to move. Unwarranted tears streamed down her cheeks as she lowered herself unsteadily to the ground. Not even feeling the chill of the ground through the thin fabric of her pants, Lorelai just sat there, slumped against the tire of the truck as the wind whipped around her. Meanwhile, Paul Anka looked on curiously as if unsure of what to make of her curled up on the ground.

Luke was leaving.

Luke was leaving, and for all intents and purposes, so was Christopher. Her husband. Moving to live in France for nine months out of the year.

And which one was she more upset about?

Which one had she encouraged, and which one had thrown her for a loop that not even the biggest roller-coaster in the world could rival?

The answer, unlike everything she'd been unable to process in the past ten minutes, came with frightening ease to Lorelai.

She buried her face in Paul Anka's fur and let out another strangled sob.

**To be continued…**


	8. Friday, April 27, 2007

Thanks so much for all the reviews everyone! And, as always, thanks to **llano** for the beta :)

**Friday, April 27, 2007**

A week and a half. A week and a half. A week and a half, Luke's mind repeated incessantly as the burgers he was flipping bore the brunt of his annoyance over that fact. A freaking week and a half since Lorelai had bolted upon learning that she wasn't the only one who had a say in the changing of the status quo. A week and a half since she'd run at the first sign the life in Stars Hollow — _Luke_'s life, for that matter — didn't revolve solely around her and wasn't just going to stand still while she ran off to Paris to live her own life. The first sign that he and Stars Hollow were not just some roll of cookie dough to be thrown in the freezer, unchanged until she needed a little comforting.

She hadn't shown up on Wednesday. Luke hadn't exactly been surprised. Sure, he'd put on a pot of coffee, brought up a cherry danish, just like normal, but he'd never really expected her to show. Lorelai could bring in the fancy prep school guy to play house and plan a whole wedding; she could date Luke and even expand her house for the two of them; she could blow off that idea and run off to Europe to get married to the asshole; she could pack up and completely move to Europe — where life in Stars Hollow wouldn't even affect her in the slightest anymore anyway… Anything that Lorelai did, no matter how rational, or irrational, as the case may be, no matter how much it adversely affected those who cared about her, it was all fine and dandy. But anything that anyone else did? Anything that might throw her self-centered little university the slightest bit off-kilter? Verboten.

His marrying Nicole and moving to Litchfield had been enough to rattle her; he shouldn't have expected any less when it came to him moving across the country, even if it was just for his kid.

Not that Luke was prepared to let that deter him. If anything, Lorelai's reaction to his news the previous week had just made him that much more resolute in his plan to move on, live his own life, and focus on April. Granted, he was still a bit hesitant about the whole thing; there was a reason he'd never really left Stars Hollow, and contrary to what most townspeople may have thought, it wasn't because, one, he'd been saddled with the hardware store upon his father's death, or, two, because he'd been enraptured by one particular maid-turned-receptionist-turned-manager of the local Inn. All else aside, though he certainly wouldn't admit it to people like Taylor, the town did have its charms. Well, perhaps 'charms' was a bit too flowery a word, Luke grimaced to himself. But, for lack of a better explanation, it was home. It was home for Luke, which certainly wouldn't be easy to give up after forty some-odd years. Why else did people think he hadn't taken off globetrotting after Rachel all those times? As his mother had told him while they watched 'The Wizard of Oz' so many years ago, there really was no place like home.

Yes, Luke was willing to concede that, for many years, when there were times he'd grown so sick of festivals and busybodies and Kirk and the rest of the town's antics that he'd thought he might explode if he didn't pack up and go somewhere… anywhere, Lorelai might have been a small factor in keeping his roots firmly planted in Stars Hollow.

But married to someone else and bound for the glamorous life in Paris, she was no longer allowed to be an issue. April was pretty much all he had, at least until Doula was older and Liz was around full-time again, as he'd explained to Lorelai. So whatever it took to make the situation with April best, that was what he was going to have to do, Luke reiterated to himself as he set Kirk's toast in the toaster to blacken. He'd do whatever it took for April, especially since the courts had given him the legal right to do so, at least during his share of custody.

Not wanting to get April too excited about it, and not wanting to risk setting off Anna again, for whatever reason, his 'move,' as it were, was still restricted to periodic scans of apartment listings in Albuquerque using the internet at the town library — those same listings that Lorelai had discovered up in his apartment. Luke had also found the names of a few reliable-sounding real estate agents down there.

His plan was to give himself the weekend to work up the nerve, then maybe give one of them a call on Monday. Feel things out a little, and then give Anna a call to do some discussing if any of the listings looked promising. Who knew — if things moved quickly, maybe he'd be down there in just a few months and instead of trucking April back up to New England, where she'd already spent every summer of her life, with both of them based in New Mexico, maybe the two of them could spend a chunk of her summer vacation (and his custodial period) touring some of the National Parks they had out that way, camping or fishing or something. She loved all that science stuff, right? And all those places had to have some kind of geological or ecological or enviro-whatever nonsense to them that April would appreciate. Right? Well, it was an idea anyway, he affirmed to himself grudgingly. First he'd have to deal with the idea of moving down there in the first place.

Luke didn't really get to dwell on either of those ideas much longer — out of nowhere, Caesar appeared from the dining room and snagged the spatula from Luke's hand.

"What the hell?" Luke grumbled, reaching for the spatula. "I told you, I don't feel like dealing with people today — I've got the kitchen."

"Yes, I know that, boss," Caesar quipped patronizingly while ducking out of Luke's reach. "But somebody — or something, maybe a really big rat — just went up to your apartment. I thought you might like to go see what it was."

Luke lifted an eyebrow skeptically, but Caesar just crossed his arms defiantly, making sure the spatula stayed out of reach.

Eyes narrowed, Luke finally gave in with a growl, "Fine. But if there's nothing up there, I'm taking your tips." It wouldn't have been the first time Caesar had 'seen' something go upstairs. Such sightings had once been fairly common a few years back when Kirk had launched his theory that Luke's father was haunting the diner and that's why Luke couldn't take down the 'William's Hardware' sign.

Exiting the kitchen and stomping up the stairs, Luke didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Which helped to explain his complete and utter astonishment when he opened the door to his apartment and found Lorelai there, pacing around his kitchen staring intently at her cell phone.

Confused, he uttered a simple "Hey" in an attempt to get her attention. It didn't immediately work, but a slightly stronger-voiced repeat finally shook her out of her daze and got her to look up at him.

"Hi…" Lorelai stammered, looking initially stunned to see Luke there, then sheepish and looking rather guilty for having been caught upstairs. She launched into a hurried explanation, "I was debating calling down there to get you to come up, but now I guess I don't-"

But Luke didn't allow her to finish, as he blurted out, rather suddenly, the first thing that popped into his head upon the realization that it wasn't Wednesday and she certainly didn't belong in his apartment on the day of the week that it actually was. "Don't you have dinner with-" he started.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Lorelai groaned, waving off Luke's comment before he could even get the whole question out. Then, when Luke remained silent, at a loss as to why Lorelai was standing in his apartment, unannounced and uninvited, on a late Friday afternoon, she finally spoke up once more.

Her eyes darting nervously, she began stiltedly, "Look, I, uh… Sorry about not showing up Wednesday," she offered after a slight pause. "I mean, I don't know if you were 'expecting' me, or whatever, but I didn't show." She shrugged apologetically, finally meeting Luke's questioning gaze, "So, I'm sorry."

Luke snorted softly in response. Just more of the same — Lorelai thinking that she was the only thing that mattered to anyone; everything that everyone else did affected her, so every little thing she did or didn't do must, of course, have the same cataclysmic consequences on everyone else's life. She hadn't shown up on Wednesday, so Luke must have just been devastated, curled up in a corner crying because Lorelai hadn't graced him with her presence. With a roll of his eyes, he crossed his arms in front of him and regarded her coolly. "You don't owe me an apology, Lorelai," he stated, "You're fully capable of doing _what_ever you want, _when_ever."

Lorelai looked taken aback, thrown off momentarily by the harshness of his words. To her credit, she recovered quickly. Blinking hard twice at him, she squared her shoulders and lifted her head haughtily. "I know," she agreed, declaring somewhat standoffishly, "And I am. With my life." She took another deep breath before continuing, her face softening as she did so. "I _am_ doing what I want," she repeated. "That's kind of why I'm here."

"What?" Luke questioned automatically, almost bitterly dubious. His brow furrowed in confusion as his arms fell once again to his sides; Lorelai was hard to follow sometimes, but he couldn't help but feel that whatever she was insinuating was really coming out of left field.

"Well," Lorelai began, regarding Luke carefully as if weighing her words. "Okay, something about this is going to sound wrong, or selfish, or presumptuous, or something bad," she rambled, "in some way, no matter how I say it, so I'm just going to say it." She declared in a huff. She then tilted her head, poised as if to speak again, before shifting her gaze upward and scrunching up her face thoughtfully. "I mean," she eventually revised, still speaking up towards the ceiling, "I guess just what I'm _saying_ isn't presumptuous or bad or…" She shifted on her feet, hesitating again before clarifying, "Just kind of that I'm _here_ saying it-"

Luke was flummoxed. Frustrated and flummoxed. Not only was she obviously dilly-dallying, but what the hell was she getting at anyway? "Saying what?" he interjected impatiently.

Lorelai froze at the sound of his harsh words, clenching her eyes shut as she cowered guiltily. "Right," she said, wincing animatedly, "saying what." With a deep breath, she looked back at Luke, her face relaxing to an expression of resigned neutrality. A ghost of a shrug and finally, "I filed for divorce on Monday."

The phrase 'could have knocked me over with a feather' had never really made much sense to Luke until that moment. But from the moment Lorelai's words sank in, all he could manage was a dumbfounded, "You…"

"I know it doesn't concern you," Lorelai jumped in hurriedly, cutting Luke off before he could even begin to process what his mind was trying to say. "You're just a 'friend,'" she rambled on. "But, if you- If, you know, you're still thinking of moving to New Mexico with April, I just wanted you to be able to take everything into consideration. Not that you..." Lorelai paused ever so slightly, as if choosing her words carefully, "consider… me. But it's just the facts," she stated indifferently. "I'm getting divorced. I know it doesn't matter, it just…" She shrugged once more, apparently at a loss for a better way to sum it up. "It is what it is," she finally spit out.

Even with the miniscule break she'd left in the conversation — if it could be called that given how one-sided it had been — Luke still had no hope of formulating anything that even vaguely resembled coherent speech. She was getting divorced? _Divorced_? What, because of the New Mexico thing? Was she _that_ desperate to cling to life as she knew it in Stars Hollow? Was this some last-ditch effort to keep him there in Connecticut while she still had her happily ever after with the asshole? But wait, divorce meant no more asshole, right? Was he just supposed to waltz back into her life as if nothing had happened? Was he supposed to be happy that she assumed she could just snap her fingers and he'd jump? Should he be angry? Did that mean she wasn't moving away to Paris? Or was she staying with the asshole regardless of the legal minutiae of a divorce? He and Nicole had put off their divorce to date — who was to say that Lorelai wouldn't stay with her soon-to-be ex-husband regardless of a divorce? Or… What the hell? Luke's mind was racing with possible explanations and implications and hows and whos and whys.

And strangely enough, as if Lorelai was somehow anticipating all of that turmoil and all of those questions, she quickly offered, after barely having stopped for a breath, the closest Luke was going to get to an explanation, or a justification. "And, yes," she acknowledged hastily, "this all sounds bad, and presumptuous, and everything I didn't want it to sound like, but I didn't do it for you. Right," she spat out, as if clarifying her stance for her own good as opposed to his, "I didn't. Because we're not anything." Luke, had he not still been reeling from the initial blow of Lorelai's announcement, might have recognized the lingering bitterness that laced her 'anything.'

But he was in no position to much more than numbly listen to the onslaught of explanations, defenses, and veiled apologies that poured from Lorelai's mouth. "I really did do it for me, it was something I needed to do," she spat out nervously. "And If I'd never met you," she continued with a deep breath, "if you weren't moving to New Mexico, if Chris and I had already been married twenty years, I'd still be doing this right now. For me. It's just what I have to do. So there it is."

A silence hung in the air as both parties stood practically motionless, Luke feeling rather shell-shocked by what Lorelai had said. It was of little comfort to him that she looked as stunned by her words — or maybe for her, the fact that she'd actually said them — as he did.

When the weighty silence coupled with the tirade of questions running rampant through his head was too much for Luke, he knew had to say something. Anything. But all he could muster up was a shaky "Lorelai…"

For better or for worse, Luke's words seemed to spur Lorelai into coming back to life. "Luke, it is what it is," she sighed, shaking her head, defeated. "I know you have April, I know that even when we were together she was head and shoulders above me in your book-"

Where her other words had left him in a stunned stupor, Lorelai's latest insinuation had Luke's defenses up. She had no right to play martyr when it had absolutely no basis in reality. He protested immediately, "That's not tr-"

Lorelai paid him no mind, waving a hand dismissively as she continued speaking right over his refutations of her words. "-and I know I'm not something that has any bearing on your life anymore, but I had to tell you. Not because I owed you, or I thought… anything. Just because." She shrugged helplessly as she finished with a note of finality, "It is what it is."

By the time she finished, Luke had quieted once again, as yet unable to come up with anything to fend off or counter Lorelai's verbal barrage. Even opening his mouth to speak once, in an attempt to fill the uncomfortable silence pervading the room, Luke couldn't muster up anything more than a choked out "I-"

He found himself cut off immediately once again. Any lingering discomfort or awkwardness, on Lorelai's part anyway, seemed to fade into mid-air by the sound of his voice. Spurred into action, she launched herself towards the door in a flurry of activity, fussing with the contents of her purse and her pockets and anything else she could manage as a distraction. "And now I have to tell my parents," she giggled, a wide smile plastered on her face. "This'll be fun," she lamented jokingly. As if she hadn't just laid this weighty knowledge on Luke's shoulders, he mused incredulously, still looking on astonished as she yanked the door open with a flourish. And just before making her final frenzied exit, Lorelai finished brightly, that phony-grin still as prominent as ever, "But after almost 40 years, what's one more huge disappointment and failure, right?"

And then she was gone.

And Luke, still frozen to the spot, had no idea what to think.

**To be continued…**


	9. Saturday, April 28, 2007

Thanks to **Filo** for the impromptu beta, and if anyone is still out there reading this, thanks for sticking around even though I defected to the VS8 team for a while.

Hope you enjoy :)

**Saturday, April 28, 2007**

Lorelai scowled at the screen in front of her. The wait staff's salaries were all there in Quicken, all showing up as exactly the same amounts as she'd called in to the paycheck place on Tuesday. The same amounts that she called in every other second Tuesday. The same amounts that were printed on the master ledger she'd received back from the paycheck service yesterday, pay day. Yesterday, and DA day, Lorelai revised in her head. Divorce Announcement day, but that was another story…

Regardless, given yesterday's DA day status, finding 13 angry phone messages from 5 angry waiters and waitresses who hadn't received their direct deposits when she'd returned from Friday night dinner was not exactly what she'd been looking forward to. Nor had she been looking forward to having to drag herself to the Inn this morning — the first Saturday she have supposed to have had off in weeks — to try and deal with the mystery of the disappearing direct deposits.

No, Lorelai wasn't feeling very Nancy Drew. Today was supposed to be for wallowing, she lamented as she scanned the financial records once again. Not wallowing in the typical sense exactly, since she sure as hell wasn't upset that she'd finally gotten the guts to give Chris the boot, but the situation still had to warrant at least a pint of Phish Food and a little self-pity. Less that a year from 40 and with her only marriage over less than a year after it started? That had to deserve at least a day of wallowing, right? Throw in the torture that was telling Richard and Emily, and Lorelai was actually pretty proud of herself for only requiring fat and sugar to soothe herself and not something a little stronger.

Sure, Rory had taken the news well enough when Lorelai had told her earlier that week — the kid went to Yale for a reason. Half the time she'd been too smart for her own good, so she had to have known for a while that the union of her parents hadn't exactly turned out to be the picture perfect romance that she might have wished for Mommy and Daddy back at age 6. So she'd been accepting when Lorelai had broken the news of the impending divorce. Maybe a little disappointed, but accepting nonetheless, and had, in a very Rory-like fashion, even offered to come home to provide moral support. Of course Lorelai had refused, not wanting to bother the kid near the end of the semester any more than she already had. In the end, Rory was only appeased when Lorelai reminded her that she'd just see her at Friday dinner anyway. As great as the self-sacrificing Mom role was, Lorelai was, in retrospect, willing to acknowledge that playing the martyr this time was an exceedingly bad move.

Despite interrupting Rory's schedule, the way to go would have been to have Rory come home, get a jump start on the wallowing together, and avoid the Friday dinner altogether. But no, dinner it was. Nothing like a Gilmore dinner with an extra dose of disapproval and disappointment tossed in. Plus the requisite dash of resignation as a result of the fact that Richard and Emily really hadn't expected much else from their daughter anyway.

Though, Lorelai admitted, flipping through old pay stubs, the painfully long dinner, chock full of the initial yelling, followed by the endless stream of snide comments from Emily, weary shakes of the head from Richard, and sympathetic puppy-dog eyes from Rory, bad as they were, had at least served to distract her from the other horribly low point of the day.

Luke.

Perhaps it was a momentary lapse into insanity when she'd gone over there? She should have stuck to her instincts that had had her avoid him on Wednesday. What had she been thinking sneaking into her ex-fiancé's apartment to announce to him that she was suddenly getting divorced? The man was packing up to head to _New Mexico_ to live near his _daughter_ for God's sake! Regardless, he'd surely moved on from her anyway; Lorelai considered herself lucky to even have his friendship at this point, given how she'd treated him. And she had to go and completely screw things up by tossing her new divorce onto the table for him. 'Probably going to sound presumptuous?' Duh. Of course everything she'd said had sounded incredibly presumptuous — 'I'm the idiot who slept with and married an old flame in large part to spite you because you had been ignoring me, and now you've been gracious enough to cater to my whims and at least pretend to still be a friend while I complain to you about the marriage to said old flame falling to bits, and oh, now that it's over and I'm single again, could you just drop everything and forget about your daughter to live happily ever after with me?'

No, not presumptuous at all… Right.

More like the desperate grasping of straws by a nearly 40-year-old woman who would give absolutely anything — including her pride — for anything that resembled half a chance at fixing the one good relationship she'd ever had. Hell, even a quarter of a chance. Or a tenth of a percent of a chance, because, as Lorelai knew deep down, when it came to Luke and his kid, a tenth of a percent would be all Lorelai could hope for.

"Ugh," Lorelai groaned, dropping her face into her palms. Pathetic. She really did need that wallow.

But first she had to figure out what the hell had gone wrong with the waiters' pay. It sure as hell didn't look like anything had been screwed up on her end of things, but she was going to need to know her accounts inside and out so she could point out on Monday to the bank or paycheck people or whoever that it was their screw up and not hers. So she grabbed another stack of old paycheck records, squinted at the computer screen once more, and readied herself for at least another hour of poring over financial statements.

The next thing she knew, the door to her office was flying open, the doorway framing a red-faced, rather vicious-looking Luke. Lorelai's hand flew to her chest, her entire body reeling from the sudden intrusion. But she barely got a surprised "Lu-" before Luke roared to life on his own, demanding loudly, "What the hell was that about yesterday?"

If Luke's appearance alone had taken Lorelai aback, it was nothing compared to the stunned disbelief she felt when it finally sank in that he was _angry_. Granted, she hadn't known what sort of expectation she'd had as far as his reaction to her announcement of her impending divorce — she'd known what she'd _hoped_ — but not even her overactive imagination had had him this upset with her in any scenario. "Luke," she spluttered, dumbfounded, "wha-?"

Her weak attempt at appeasing him was thwarted when Luke launched himself into a fuming tirade. "You're getting divorced? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he exclaimed, his voice inching up in both volume and pitch with each word. "You just waltz in," he raved, his arms waving about emphatically as he continued, "and say 'Hey, I'm getting a divorce'?" He ended with a tone that could be called nothing short of mocking, and a sneer just this side of disdainful.

Prickling at the less than veiled condescension, Lorelai's stupor was immediately abandoned in favor of her indignantly defensive mode. "Hey," she hissed, matching Luke's ardor as she made an instinctive move to close her office door, "keep it down!" Crossing her arms in front of her chest as she turned back around, she snapped back at him, "Not everyone else knows yet."

"Oh good," Luke's eyes widened as he shook his head in exasperation. He spat his next words out just as bitterly as those that had come before. "So you chose to tell me before _who_ else?" he snarled.

Lorelai bit back the venomous reply that threatened and studied him for a moment. Where he was planning on going with this impromptu visit, she had no idea. But given past precedent, she was fairly sure that not a whole lot would get accomplished — and certainly nothing positive — with the two of them screaming, unabated, at each other. And to be honest, she just didn't know if she had another flight in her, not after having had to deal with telling her parents about the divorce the night before. Taking a deep breath as she rounded back around her desk to sit down, she finally spoke. Forcing a level tone, she admitted flatly, "Pretty much everyone but Chris and Rory. And my parents know now too."

She, however, was apparently the only one concerned with keeping things civil. Having taken to angry pacing somewhere in the last five seconds, Luke didn't seem able to temper his temper quite as well as she. "Why?" he cried, a hint of desperation starting to creep into his livid outbursts, "Why would you _do_ that Lorelai?"

The answer to that required little thinking on Lorelai's part — she had more answers for that than she knew what to do with. Because of the tiny little sliver of hope she was holding onto that maybe, just maybe, even after everything that had happened, there was something to be salvaged between them, if only he'd stay in the same time zone? Because after six months of marriage to a man she'd never really be able to love, the only one she ever _did_ love was threatening to move across the country, and she'd had to do _something_? But she couldn't say those things. She was already out on the limb; if she was going to end up hanging on to any shred of dignity, it couldn't all be her. "Because I thought you should know," she eventually replied, her voice coolly neutral as she began flipping aimlessly through the invoices once more.

"Before I go to New Mexico?" Luke demanded incredulously, his eyes wide as if he simply could not fathom her reasoning.

Though they weren't altogether unexpected, Luke's harshly asked words dealt a swift blow to Lorelai. Crestfallen, her shoulders slumped even as she jerked her head back up to face him, the papers she'd been rifling through falling forgotten to the desk top. Her valiant efforts to appear unaffected by Luke's presence fell by the wayside as her expression softened immediately to one of unabashed despondence. It wasn't as if she'd ever really expected him to stay, but… "You're going?" she asked meekly, automatically seeking the confirmation she really didn't want to hear, the hushed words slipping from her mouth of their own accord.

Luke's pacing ceased momentarily, and he turned to her in an angry flourish. He eyed her warily, his jaw set and nostrils flaring in a silent warning for Lorelai not to push it. "Before I make my _decision_ about going to New Mexico," he revised, his tone only slightly less biting than before.

"Oh," Lorelai replied dully. She couldn't deny the slight fluttering in her chest at the slightest glimmer of hope that he might stay. But, she still had to acknowledge that that wasn't likely to be the case.

As suddenly as Luke had burst into her office, an overwhelming weariness washed over her. Yes, she'd had to give Christopher the boot for her own good regardless. But really, had there ever been a chance of anything else with the man standing in front of her now? No. Too little, too late, she knew. And anything from this point on was more than likely going to be more of the same. More of this — the snapping at each other, the tension. Until he left for Albuquerque, that is. It was the end of their era, and she was suddenly all too aware of how tired she was of fighting it. Slumping down in her chair, defeated, she realized that she'd never actually answered Luke's question. Drawing her gaze mournfully up towards where he still loomed angrily, she sighed, admitting, "Well, yes." She shrugged helplessly, adding an evasive, "I guess."

"Ok… Ok," Luke took in slowly, his flat tone and hollow expression doing nothing to alleviate Lorelai's dismay.

She was half expecting him to just leave, still angry at her for having been so presumptuous. But he just sat there. He just sat there, staring at the floor and working his jaw while Lorelai watched him, confused and curiously silent.

"When I told you I was thinking of moving down there for April," Luke blurted out suddenly, his voice wavering in a pointed attempt at sternness, "I explained that there's really nothing for me in Stars Hollow. And now you tell me your…" Luke looked up at Lorelai at this pause, glaring as he fought for the right word. "Circumstances…" he finally drew out wryly, "have changed. How-" The beginning of the question caught in Luke's throat. The snide mocking of only a few words earlier faded quickly into something more akin to utterly baffled desperation. "Why is that supposed to mean something to me?" he wondered aloud, practically pleading for an answer at this point. "Are you- Is that-" he stumbled over his words, both the hope and dread in his voice evident as he continued, "Does that mean I would now have things — a thing," he eyed Lorelai pointedly, "— for me? Here?"

Lorelai's jaw dropped. "Luke, I-" she stammered. Where had the anger gone? She'd been presumptuous, yes, but had it been warranted? Had he just insinuated that he might consider staying? For her? "Of course," she confirmed hurriedly, exhilarated by the fact he'd even stayed to question her, though at the same time saddened that he again — still? — had to ask about such a thing. "Always," she insisted, before adding, hedging, "if you want it."

Setting his jaw once more, Luke studied Lorelai, taking in her response. It was only after another nearly unbearable silence that he finally responded again. He balked twice before starting, "If I did want that thing…" He spoke carefully, wringing his fingers nervously as his gaze darted about the room. "I've… been stupid," he continued haltingly, "I've… lost… that thing a few times already. Not that the thing didn't have a role in getting lost by me," he added with a hint of warning in his voice, "but…." His voice having faded out again, Luke cleared his throat uneasily and finally lifted his head to peer into Lorelai's eyes. "With the new circumstances," he began again, "would that thing be open to a more permanent arrangement? So I don't lose it again?" Luke finished bashfully, his gaze dropping once again and the tops of his ears tingeing red.

"I…" Lorelai's mind raced as her words faded away. Permanent arrangement? _Permanent arrangement_? Holy hell, what did _that_ mean? Was that some sort of Luke's sometimes sad sense of humor trying to joke about a death threat if she didn't get a grip and let him live his own life? Five minutes ago she certainly wouldn't have put a murder — _her_ murder — as beyond Luke's capabilities. But it didn't make sense; now he was saying he didn't want to lose her? Or didn't want to lose 'a thing,' but she had to think that he could only be referring to her and not, say, Kirk or something. What on earth was he trying to do with this whole 'thing' talk anyway? Luke was never one to be anything but blunt, and he-

Lorelai's eyes widened suddenly as a nagging — but impossible, she told herself — idea began creeping into the back of her mind. He couldn't mean… _Could_ he mean…? Permanent arrangement in the sense of _marriage_ being a permanent arrangement? It seemed preposterous, not to mention _completely_ out of nowhere, but really, what else could that mean? What else _could_ he be getting at, Lorelai reasoned in her head.

Utterly bewildered, she lifted her gaze to look up at Luke in search of any sort of clues as to what in the name of all that was holy he was getting at. Only when she slowly began to focus on Luke's expectant face once more did she realize that he was still sitting there waiting for an answer. Her answer. "Uh, sure, yeah," she replied numbly, still not one hundred percent sure what exactly it was she was agreeing to. Though, somewhere deep down in Lorelai's brain was the vague notion that if that, in fact, had been a proposal, she, looking back years from now, would probably wish she'd done more than stammer out an 'Uh, sure, yeah' in caveman-like grunts. Automatically she spat out a revised answer, a moderately more eloquent if forced "Yes."

Luke considered this for a moment. "Ok," he replied, "Good." Lorelai's heart barely had a chance to skip a beat at his words before Luke continued gravely, "But if I went to Albuquerque, it would be for my daughter. That's a _big_ thing," he stressed, as if Lorelai was no more than two years old. "Things like kids are important. They're supposed to come before other things," he lectured. "You're supposed to put them first and make all sorts of sacrifices for them."

"I know," Lorelai admitted with dismay, he shoulders slumping at the facts Luke presented. He wasn't wrong. It all came back to his original reason for leaving — he wanted to be near his kid. "But…" Her plaintive protest ended before it began. As quickly as the possibility of something with Luke again had come to life, it was gone. He had to leave; it's what was best. It wasn't as if she hadn't known that April would still be an issue, even in the best of outcomes after announcing her divorce — how selfish had she been in ever thinking he might stay for her when his child was involved? Feeling deflated, Lorelai could come up with nothing to say.

Unless…

No, she reprimanded herself, that would be insane. And possibly even more self-centered than dropping the divorce bomb on Luke in the first place. Positively insane.

Not that the conversation wasn't already bordering on insane and completely surreal, she rationalized.

Oh hell, she finally relented, squeezing her eyes shut momentarily and rubbing her temples. If she really wasn't dreaming, and if Luke really had, in the most bizarre, backhanded, and unexpected way possible, just proposed, actually _proposed_, then she might as well just go for broke. Honestly, how much more awkward and ridiculous could the conversation possibly get? How much _worse_ could the situation possibly get? Worst case scenario, Luke would move to New Mexico and never speak to her again. But that was looking to be the situation anyway, so what the hell?

Gathering herself, she opened her eyes. Check. He actually was still there, so if it was a dream, she hadn't woken up yet. Might as well bite the bullet. With a deep breath, Lorelai spoke up again haltingly. "If you stayed for the one thing," she stammered, feeling incredibly awkward in her attempt to mimic Luke's sudden penchant for speaking in the abstract about 'things.' "Um, maybe you and the first thing could end up with an equivalent to the Albuquerque thing." She finished hurriedly, wincing and mentally bracing herself for the backlash.

No response.

"But here," Lorelai added nervously, in case clarification was necessary.

Still nothing but a blank stare.

Hesitantly, she tried again. "Or a few of those things. Here."

Finally Luke leaned forward in his seat on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. Staring pensively into space, he ran his palms over his face and uttered a simple "Huh."

Luke's response — or lack thereof — did little to reassure Lorelai that anything she was saying was even close to appropriate, or that she was anywhere near correct in guessing at what he'd originally been implying. Nevertheless, she knew she was already in over her head. Assuming all of this hypothetical nonsense was some sort of tenuous plan for their future, there was still April to consider. But still, if her instincts were right, Luke - in spite of his anger and frustration at her — had still brought up marriage. Maybe, she corrected mentally. But still — _marriage_. _Permanence_. Meaning maybe, just maybe, Luke hadn't seen her announcing the divorce as selfish, but the logical thing to do, practical. And if Luke was still wavering on that, he was going to need a final push. 

"Then that might outweigh the New Mexico thing," Lorelai blurted out. Her outburst caught Luke by surprise, and her cheeks reddened as his gaze finally caught hers. "But you could still go see the New Mexico thing," she quickly amended. "A lot. Or she could visit. The other things. Here. A lot. Here. Or both. There and here," she finally finished stiltedly, her face even redder than before as she punctuated her halting babbling with a tinny laugh.

Luke did no such laughing. He merely shifted his gaze to the floor, and then back up, peering intently not at Lorelai, rather in to her. Or _through_ her, studying her. Or something just as strangely unsettling. But Lorelai, equally as entranced by Luke as he seemed to be by her, sat silent, unable to speak, move, or even squirm uncomfortably beneath his unwavering stare. Was any of it even real, she wondered, as her mind frantically replayed everything the last few minutes had brought. Logic told her that it was impossible — Luke bursting into her office, tossing out nebulous hypotheticals and unspoken promises, her reciprocating in a fashion equally absurd — it couldn't be happening, it was too surreal.

Things were no clearer to Lorelai when Luke suddenly jerked back to life, clearing his throat and uttering a simple "Ok." With no further fanfare, he was gone as quickly as he'd arrived.

Lorelai blinked, staring incredulously out the door after him. Stunned, she could do nothing more than linger limply in her chair.

It didn't make sense, what had just happened. It just didn't make sense. He couldn't have meant it. No one could make the leap in less than a week from married, to separated with an impending divorce, to what certainly sounded like — but really couldn't be — a tenuous engagement, before the divorce was final, mind you, to a man you had already been engaged to once before, and already be making plans for more children.

No. It didn't happen. It couldn't have. She'd just dreamt it, Lorelai told herself as she gave her head a little shake and sat up straighter. It was all in her head; she'd conjured it up unconsciously after having drifted off for a moment at her desk. Dinner last night had been draining, after all, and the wedding invoices were less than a barrel of laughs.

No, there was no way she'd just had that conversation with Luke. No way.

Or had she?

**To be continued…**


	10. Wednesday, May 2, 2007

**So yeah… Remember this story anyone? It's baaack. Apologies for taking forever… But you saw my VS8 contributions, right? It's not like I fell off the face of the earth…**

Anyhoo, don't think this chapter being short-ish is related to the forever it took me to get it written — it was planned to be that way. Hope you enjoy :)

Thanks to _Filo_ for the beta.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Luke spent the next few days as close as he ever wanted to come to having some sort of bipolar disorder. Half the time he spent mentally chastising himself — _cursing_ himself, actually — over the absolute and utter insanity that must have overtaken him to have said what he said to Lorelai. His intent, when the shock of her announcement had finally worn off enough for him to form coherent sentences, had been to go to the Dragonfly and ask her what in the hell she'd been thinking.

And sure, that part he'd succeeded at. However, never, ever, had he envisioned himself having what amounted to a meltdown and basically asking her to marry him. _Marry_ him. Not that he'd said that outright, but that was beside the point. He'd done it, and four days later he still was beating himself up over the sheer stupidity of such a move.

That was half the time.

The other half of the time Luke spent reminding himself that, in spite of everything, she'd said yes. Yes. Eight years of him sitting on his hands and biting his lip at every Max, Jason, and Christopher appearance, two together — which, granted, weren't all rainbows and sunshine, one long-lost daughter, one failed engagement, her marriage to Christopher… And there was still enough there for her to say 'Yes.'

Though it pleased him to no end that they would, after everything, get to be together again, it wasn't without concern. It would, as he'd said, mean nixing his plans to move closer to April. He told himself that it would simply mean more visits, more frequently. Even aside from that, Luke wasn't stupid — nothing had really been discussed. There were certainly still things to work through.

But, he'd been telling himself since Saturday, Lorelai was still dealing with one phase in her life, figuring out the divorce. He knew as well as anyone, no matter how invested or not invested you were in the relationship, the failure of a marriage wasn't something to be glossed over. In his mind, the ball was in Lorelai's court and when she was ready for… whatever… she would come to him.

So he'd kept to himself for the past few days, throwing himself into work at the diner, giving Caesar or Zack time off if they'd wanted it. What better way to fight his instincts, which were to go see her, than to be stuck at work? Given that she'd been MIA following his original announcement that he was thinking of moving to Albuquerque, he wasn't expecting to see her for a while after dropping a random engagement bomb on her either.

Which was why, on Wednesday, he was pretty near floored when, as he was bringing the table near the far window their tuna melt and grilled cheese, he saw Lorelai slip timidly into the diner. Slack-jawed, he set down the plates absently and let out a weak "Lorelai…"

She gave a tinny laugh, her eyes darting about. "That's me," she said.

Still flummoxed by her appearance, Luke moved numbly back towards the counter, stammering, "What are you…?"

"I, uh-" Lorelai started, moving to a stool on the opposite side of the counter. "We," she began again, gesturing behind her to Gigi, who had just come into view from behind the end of the counter, "were upstairs… for a while, but you didn't- So we came back down, and put Paul Anka…" She trailed off as she nodded in the direction of the door to the shaggy creature outside, with his leash looped haphazardly around a parking meter.

Luke followed her gaze and stared blankly at the dog for a moment. "I didn't- I didn't think you'd be here…" he finally managed to admit.

Though he could tell she was fighting to hide it, Lorelai's face fell. "Oh," she said.

"No, I just-" Luke sighed, frustrated at his own assumptions. "I'm sorry."

"No, I mean," Lorelai shrugged, obviously trying to play it all off as if it were nothing, "I didn't last week, so why would y-"

Lorelai didn't get to finish; Gigi, by that point, was apparently not amused by the stilted conversation of the two adults and had hauled herself up onto the stool next to Lorelai. Interrupting, she asked Luke pointedly, "Can I have a doughnut please?"

Momentarily thrown off by the extra little voice in the conversation, Luke quickly recovered with a forced "Uh, hey… Gigi" of acknowledgement. And, in response to her question, he added, muttering, "Uh, sure." Gigi, in turn, threw him a smile and pointed insistently at something covered in chocolate and brightly colored sprinkles. Luke obediently got it for her and slid it across the counter on a small plate.

"What do you say?" Lorelai prompted, nudging Gigi with her elbow as the child moved to take as big a bite as she could.

Barely pausing, Gigi spat out a hurried "Thank you" and proceeded to shove the doughnut in her mouth, smearing her cheeks with chocolate.

"No problem," Luke replied with an amused snort at the mess. Turning back to Lorelai, he began some semblance of an apology once more. "Look, I shouldn't have assume-"

Lorelai was the one to cut him off this time. "It's okay," she assured him, once again trying to brush off what Luke knew had affected her more than she let on. "I mean," she continued, eyeing the curtain blocking the stairs to the apartment, "we can still-"

"I'm by myself," Luke informed her, all the while kicking himself for having given Caesar the day off.

"Oh." The second dumbfounded 'Oh' of the conversation left Lorelai unable to hide the crestfallen look on her face any longer.

Feeling awful, not only because he so badly wanted to see Lorelai and be able to talk some things over more rationally than a few days ago, but because she so obviously had wanted to see him, and he'd screwed it up, Luke launched into an apologetic explanation. "I gave Caesar the night off since I didn't think you- And Lane's car broke down," he added with a shrug, "so Zach had to go get her. I gotta…" he gave a vague gesture to the kitchen and some tables. "At least until Zach is back."

By that point, Lorelai had plastered on a smile too bright to be real. "No, sure, that's fine," she quickly assured him.

"You could stay anyway," he offered hurriedly, just wanting to keep her around in any capacity, even if they couldn't discuss anything.

Lorelai shook her head in regret. "I can't leave Paul Anka out there by himself. Something'll freak him out and that'll be the end of him." With a resigned sigh, she looked down at Gigi, who had moved on from her first huge bite to mechanically removing the sprinkles to eat them one-by one. "We should get home," Lorelai finally said.

That caught Luke off guard, at least with respect to the kid. "Home?" he questioned. He'd have figured that given a divorce was on the way, Lorelai would have been the only one living at her house anymore.

"Until Saturday," Lorelai explained, with an air of what Luke could have only described as guilt. "Then, uh," she continued awkwardly, "Christopher gets back from apartment hunting in France and the movers are picking up his — their — stuff." When Luke didn't respond, she stammered further explanation, "Sherry — her mother," she nodded down in Gigi's direction, "wasn't in town over there or something, so I said she could stay with me."

It was Luke's turn to utter a dull "Oh."

"So, yeah," Lorelai shrugged, "we're going. Gigi, grab a napkin to bring that with you. And one to wipe your face with," she instructed.

Though customers from at least two tables to his left were trying to get his attention, Luke couldn't help but stare after Lorelai and Gigi as they first got the little girl cleaned up and then headed for the door. Feeling almost a little sick to his stomach at the thought of Lorelai having been here but not having been able to talk to her, Luke called out as she pulled the door open to leave, "I'll see you?" It was no more concrete than anything they had discussed on Saturday, but a reply in the affirmative would at least give him a modicum of something to hold onto, to look forward to.

Lorelai lingered silently at the half-open door for a moment, even after Gigi had scampered out and over to untangle Paul Anka's leash. Finally, with what looked like the first genuine smile since she'd walked in, she turned back towards Luke. "Yeah," she nodded, almost shyly, "I'll see you."

Luke always had hated watching her walk away, but her assurance that she'd be back made him feel a little better.

With a quick shake of his head to clear his mind, he reached for his order pad and headed over to the impatient customers by the window.

**To be continued…**


	11. Wednesday, May 16, 2007

**And here we have it folks, the reason for this ficathon (yeah, this was for the reunion smutficathon forever ago), and how many chapters in? And how late? Sorry for taking so long in finishing this — to think, at one point I was almost caught up with the dates so that I would have been posting in 'real time.' Oh well, life happens. Also, a word of caution to those well-versed in smuttiness — in the past I've always gone for a more abstract version of the L/L lovin'. Apologies if this attempt at upping the smut-factor ended up a little too porny or 'insert tab A into slot B' or just generally not to your liking :)**

Thanks as always to all the reviewers for their kind words, and to _Filo_ for the beta and for making me laugh with her comments :)

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Lorelai sat stiffly on her couch, hands clasped together and elbows on her knees as she leaned forward, staring intently on the thin manila envelope that sat before her. The one that had sat there since exactly a week ago. The one that contained the papers officially declaring the dissolution of her marriage to Christopher.

That was the way the lawyers had put it, which Lorelai had found odd. Never divorce, never annulment, always 'dissolution,' as if the other words were just getting too common and blasé to use anymore. Not that dissolution wasn't fitting, however, she admitted. Dissolution, like dissolve. Which was basically how the whole thing with Christopher had gone. Like Alka-seltzer, a whole lot of fizz and excitement right at the beginning, but it just petered out until you suddenly realized there was nothing left. Nothing there at all.

And so it was. Christopher and Gigi were officially out of her life and off to Paris, likely to be seen again only on the off-chance they popped over to London at the same time she was across the Pond to see Rory. They were gone, Rory was heading off to be with Logan, and she, regular old single Lorelai Gilmore once again, was all alone.

Except for that envelope.

It had come a full week ago, and now it was Wednesday again. And she knew what her next step had to be, she just wasn't quite sure how to proceed. Hell, she still wasn't completely convinced that the incident in her office at the Dragonfly with Luke hadn't been a complete fabrication of her overactive imagination. And even allowing that it hadn't been, Lorelai just couldn't for a moment believe that Luke would really ever be willing to give her — them — another chance. Her ill-fated visit to the diner two weeks ago had done nothing to clear things up or reassure her — Luke hadn't even had enough faith in her to keep someone else on to work if she showed up. That hardly boded well for a reunion.

In all honesty, it really just meant that she had no idea where they stood now that Connecticut had officially declared her marriage to Christopher null and void.

She wasn't ready for this. Divorce in Connecticut was supposed to take at least four to six months. She was supposed to have four to six months before anything Luke had said that day at the Inn could possibly even begin to come to fruition. Six months would have made things much easier. But apparently you don't get six months when you get run off to France on a whim and end up in a marriage that isn't even technically legal in the state you actually live in. Which turned out to be the case, as Lorelai's lawyer had notified her just a few days ago. So instead of a divorce that took six months, less than a few weeks later, with no waiting periods to be found, Lorelai was sitting in her living room faced with annulment papers and agonizing over what to do next.

Even so, she still had to tell him. Luke. She'd been so resolute in her determination to tell him that she was splitting up with Chris in the first place, she had to follow through and tell him things were official. Whatever that would bring. And she couldn't put it off any longer. When the papers had arrived last Wednesday, she knew there was no way she could face Luke, or anyone that matter, right away. But a week later, and having stood Luke up one Wednesday already, and that after she'd gotten so upset over his neglecting to keep their Wednesday tradition, she had to go see him. What it would bring, she didn't know.

To be honest, a part of her was actually afraid of Luke letting her back in. They were doing so, so well as what they had been since the Wednesdays started, just friends. The best of friends, with whom she could talk about almost anything. If the fact that she and Luke had actually discussed her marital problems with Christopher in a completely rational and civil manner didn't show how much progress they'd made on the friend front, she had no idea what would. But a relationship? To try again? While Lorelai would have given her right arm to be able to magically be back where they'd been at the best of times, so much had changed. She being one of those things — she knew now, more than ever, if given the chance she would throw herself, heart and soul, into making it work with Luke. But things happened. Things out of anyone's control, and she was so afraid that if they got started once again…

Lorelai didn't get to finish that particular thought, however, for from the direction of the front hallway, she heard a small whimper and the sound of a paw raking over the carved wood of the door.

Pulling herself up off the couch reluctantly, she peered into the foyer. There, as she suspected, was a desperate looking Paul Anka doing his 'I-have-to-pee' shuffle while he gazed longingly at his leash hanging by the door.

Leave it to him to not leave her any options. Oh well, she sighed, might as well get it over with…

It was only about ten minutes later, Paul Anka's bladder freshly emptied, when the pair found themselves on the now familiar route around the back of the diner, through the back door, and up the stairs. Unlike some of the more recent weeks, Lorelai couldn't bring herself to barge in. She cast a desperate glance down at Paul Anka, hoping for some canine show of solidarity, but he just wagged his tail and sniffed at the crack beneath the door.

Just get it over with, she scolded herself, what's the worst that could happen? But given the spectrum of Luke's possible reactions to hearing about the divorce — annulment, she corrected in her head - Lorelai wasn't even sure what would be considered 'the worst' — a non-reaction that said he was content with just being friends? Or an indication that he _would_ be willing to try one more time? Quite frankly, Lorelai wasn't sure her heart would be able to handle either. But she had to know. Besides, the trepidation of not knowing Luke's thoughts was doing a number of her stomach, and if she didn't do something, the 'go in or not go in' debate would be moot, because she'd end up in the hospital with ulcers or something.

So she took a deep breath that did nothing to calm her nerves, and then she lifted her hand, rapping on the frosted glass a few times.

The door flew open a few seconds later, a rather harried Luke clutching a sudsy coffee pot declaring, "You don't have to knock."

Lorelai opened her mouth, prepared to offer some sort of weak explanation, but no words came. Not that it particularly mattered, for as suddenly as Luke had appeared in the doorway, he was off across the room again, back at the sink and rinsing off the coffee pot. Even Paul Anka abandoned her there in the entry as he scampered across to April's side of the apartment, curling up in the cozy chair in the corner.

Absently, she realized that if he was rinsing out a coffee pot, he must have been waiting for her. Meaning that he was waiting for her even after she'd failed to show up the week before. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of what that could mean.

After shaking herself out of her daze, Lorelai finally did manage to make it into the apartment and close the door behind her, but beyond that, she could do nothing more than linger uncomfortably near the entryway.

Luke must have had a busy day leading up to her visit; he was obviously behind schedule, still in the midst of preparing the coffee he usually had already waiting for her when she arrived. Which was probably why he didn't notice her standing there, awkwardly silent, until he'd put the now-clean pot on to brew and turned towards the table expecting her to have already sat down. And he certainly had no idea what would be coming — he knew as well as she did of the legal waiting periods required for marriages gone wrong. He had to be under the assumption that it was a divorce she was still waiting for.

Wiping any remaining dampness from his hands with a paper towel, Luke eyed Lorelai curiously. "You okay?" he asked.

"I-" Lorelai began, the words catching in her throat.

"You…" Luke coaxed gently, concern evident in his expression.

"I'm divorced," she finally blurted out, mentally bracing herself against whatever might follow.

Nothing did.

"Annulled, actually," she amended with a forced laugh in an attempt to break the horribly awkward silence.

Still nothing.

Forcing herself to look up at Luke, she found him frozen, much like herself, trying to process the words she'd just spoken. Lorelai could practically see the gears turning in his mind as his mouth opened and then closed again without a word. The paper towel had fallen, forgotten, to the floor, and Luke's hand rested limply on the back of a kitchen chair.

"It's official," she confirmed uncomfortably after a moment, trying to force some sort of playful lilt into her voice, "No waiting periods for annulments." Trying to play it off as a just a passing comment, not one that may or may not have had weighty implications for their friendship. Relationship. Engagement? Whatever it was.

The words hadn't been out of her mouth half a second before Luke was striding across the room towards her. The look on his face so intense, so focused, for a moment Lorelai almost thought he was angry again, gearing up for a repeat of the outburst at the Dragonfly.

But he wasn't. Upon reaching Lorelai, he was anything but. Staring down at her, he lifted a hand, gently, almost reverently brushing it along the side of her face, pushing away a stray lock of hair. And then he pressed his lips softly to hers, in a move that Lorelai hadn't been sure if she'd been hoping for or dreading.

But now she knew; when Luke pulled back, it was altogether too soon for Lorelai, though she surprised even herself when she found fistfuls of flannel held tightly in her grip.

With both of his hands now framing her face, Luke gazed intently into her eyes. "You're divorced," he echoed, searching for confirmation.

Her lips still tingling from Luke's kiss, any apprehensions Lorelai might have had about making the transition back to a full-blown romantic relationship fell by the wayside, dwarfed by the excitement and joy she felt bubbling in her chest. "Annulled," she corrected as a giddy smile threatened to overtake her face. "Either way, not married."

The next thing she knew, a similar grin had broken out on Luke's face, and he'd pulled her into the tightest hug imaginable. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face against his chest as he lifted her from the floor, simply reveling in the feeling of once again being in Luke's embrace.

Lorelai didn't even notice, lost in the emotion of the moment, that she'd begun to cry. Only when Luke set her back down and carefully wiped her cheeks with his thumb did she realize that she'd left small dark spots on his shirt. "Sorry, I…" she apologized sheepishly, running a hand over the dampness.

"I missed you." Luke cut her off, his voice thick with the weight of his own unshed tears.

Utterly overwhelmed, Lorelai felt her eyes spill over, her cheeks quickly covered with hot, wet streaks yet again. "Luke, I-" she sniffled.

But she didn't get to finish that sentence she so desperately wanted to say, for before she could reciprocate, or explain, or apologize, Luke's mouth was back on her own, warm and insistent with a kiss that held all the promise of what was to come. Lorelai knew, without a doubt, as her legs went shaky when she felt Luke's tongue part her lips to slide over her own, that he was intent on showing her exactly how he felt about her, about the fact that Christopher was no longer a factor, and that he, Luke, was.

And despite that nagging voice in her head urging her to put on the brakes, to take things slowly, it had been too, too long, and she missed him just as much as he had her; even if she'd wanted to, there was no way she could summon the willpower to tell Luke to slow down.

Luke's mouth eventually left hers, leaving her breathless as he trailed kisses along her jaw, traced lazy patterns with his tongue over her neck and collarbone. Lorelai was helpless, unable to do anything but let out soft noises of approval from the back of her throat as Luke slipped her jacket from her shoulders, skimming feather-light touches along the length of her bare arms.

When his lips met with the skin of her shoulder, his hands deftly pushing aside the straps of her camisole and bra, Lorelai pressed her lips to Luke's neck and grasped frantically at his shirt, already losing herself to the feel of him. It had been so long… So long. Needing to feel his lips on hers again, she shrugged him off her shoulder, urging him back to her with a soft plea, "Luke…"

He obliged willingly, meeting her in a teasing kiss, nipping at her lower lip even as she fought him for more. His hands slipped beneath Lorelai's shirt, inching it upward as he raked his nails gently over the slight goose bumps that his own touch had induced. Lorelai shivered beneath his hands and, her mouth still dueling playfully with Luke's, reached for the buttons on his flannel to level the playing field.

But Luke would have none of that; he yanked his hands from her stomach, gently pushing her hands away. Instead, he guided her arms above her head, breaking their kiss only to slip the gauzy shirt off Lorelai's body.

Pulled immediately into yet another searing kiss, Lorelai barely had the chance to register that Luke had made quick work of her bra as well, sliding the satiny garment deftly down her arms. The next thing she knew, she was pulling back from Luke's lips, letting out a hiss of pleasure as he ran his hands over her bare chest, his thumbs brushing tauntingly over her nipples.

But Luke always knew how to push her; she was breathing even harder a split second later when she felt his mouth, hot and wet, on her breast. Lorelai's head lolled forward, her eyes fluttering closed as Luke teased, alternately licking, nipping, sucking, and blowing cool air over the damp, heated skin left in the wake of his mouth. It was all she could do to run her fingers through his hair, breathing in his scent as he continued his ministrations, abandoning her left breast in favor of getting reacquainted with the right.

Lorelai let out a soft whimper of protest when she felt him pull away. But upon opening her eyes, she had less to complain about, seeing him sink down to his knees in front of her. She gripped his shoulder for balance as he gingerly slipped her sandal from one foot, then the other. Her belt came next, followed by the button and zipper of her jeans, with Luke, all the while, pressing soft kisses around her belly button.

Pushing her jeans down just below her hips, Luke reached between Lorelai's legs, as he almost always did, teasing, taunting, running his fingers along the damp fabric of her simple cotton bikinis — she hadn't exactly expected _this_, after all. But she didn't have time to regret her choice of underwear, nor to wax nostalgic by relishing the feel of Luke returning to old habits; in one swift motion Luke had all her remaining clothing puddled around her ankles, and his hand had been replaced by his tongue.

Lorelai's knees nearly buckled and she yelped a weak "Ungh!" of surprise that quickly faded into an incoherent murmur of pleasure. Luke's hands coaxed her thighs apart further as he lapped at her fervently, burying his face between her legs as best he could, tasting and licking and swirling his tongue, drinking her in as if he'd never get the chance again.

Lorelai could have died just like that — had the end of the world come at that moment, she might not have cared. But with her feet still tangled in the legs of her jeans, and her legs feeling ever more like jello as she doubled over, her nails digging into Luke's shoulders for support, she knew that standing up under her own power wouldn't last much longer, and careening to the floor awkwardly was not how she wanted things to end. "Luke," she managed to whisper, tugging on his hair, "Luke, you have to…"

He was on his feet in a second, lips on lips again, allowing Lorelai to taste that mingling of the two of them that she hadn't even allowed herself to realize that she'd missed so much.

But she wanted more. She missed _him_. Luke was still completely dressed, and having come this far, she knew she wasn't going to let him have all the fun. Breaking the kiss, she stepped back from Luke, kicking her pants away and raising her eyebrows impishly. She reached for the buttons on his flannel, slowly unfastening them one by one. Luke, for his part, stood still, content to watch and let her have her way.

The shirt finally open, Lorelai leaned in to Luke, dropping kisses in the stubble of his neck and chin as she slid the flannel over his shoulders. The t-shirt he wore beneath the flannel was the next casualty, Lorelai yanking it over his head, conveniently catching the hat with it and sending them both sailing to the floor. Though she was fully intent on repaying the favor and getting her turn to have her way with him, she faltered at the first sight of him bare-chested before her.

She wanted to think he hadn't changed, that a year hadn't made all that much of a difference, but it had, in a myriad of ways. Seeing Luke there, a few extra gray hairs sprinkled over his chest just exemplifying their lengthy separation. Or maybe those grays had always been there… What saddened Lorelai the most was the fact that she couldn't be quite sure. That it had been so long that her memories of him had blurred, perhaps tainted as well with the many times since that it had been another man's chest in front of her. Her heart ached for the time they had lost.

But in many ways, Luke was still the Luke she remembered, seeing right away that she was drifting, her mind getting lost somewhere she didn't necessarily want it to be. Before she could dwell on the wave of tears that threatened once again, Luke had pulled her to him, bare skin to bare skin, his fiery kiss urging her to forget everything but his hand at her waist, the other gently massaging her rear. "Stay with me," he breathed in her ear.

Eyes squeezed closed, Lorelai rested her forehead on Luke's, taking a moment to gather herself and remember that the past didn't necessarily matter — she had him there with her again, and she wasn't going to take it for granted. Flashing him a mildly embarrassed smile of apology, she reached for his belt.

She stood impossibly close to him as she slid his jeans down over his hips, purposely touching him as little as possible, except for one strategic brush of her hand across the front of his boxers. Luke hissed in response, eliciting a smirk from Lorelai, any depressing thoughts effectively expelled from her mind. She stepped back momentarily to let Luke kick off his boots, socks, and jeans.

Once he stood wearing only his boxers, his arousal more than evident beneath them, Lorelai moved back in, running her hands over his chest. And never taking her eyes from Luke's as he watched her, she began trailing wet, messy kisses from his collarbone, down over his stomach as she lowered herself until she was face to face with the waistband of his boxers. With a wicked grin back up to Luke, she gripped his cotton-shrouded length exhaling her warm breath over the head. It earned her a shudder from Luke, prompting her to graze her fingers back and forth over the soft fabric again. When she noticed, in between strokes, the tiny damp spot on the fabric at the tip, her own arousal soared. Done with the teasing, she released Luke, reaching instead for the elastic around his waist. Easing the boxers down over his hardness, she ducked her head, preparing to take him in her mouth.

Before she could, however, Luke placed a hand gently on the top of her head, nudging her away. Confused, Lorelai turned her head up to face Luke, her eyes questioning. He just shook his head, gesturing for her to stand back up. "Luke, wha-"

He silenced her with his lips, pressing them fiercely to hers. When they parted, his hands were tangled in her hair, his tired blue eyes boring into hers, pleading. And Lorelai understood. He was in charge; she'd been the one to ultimately leave him, to find someone else. He felt he had to win her back, prove himself to her. This was his seduction, his reclaiming of what should have always been his.

If that's what he needed, she was more than willing to let him take the lead. Lorelai nodded her acquiescence, giving her silent agreement to his request with a gentle kiss placed on his cheek.

Luke took her hand, stepping out of his boxers before leading her slowly to his bed. More used to the way things had normally gone between them — the pair of them tumbling to the bed together in a frenzy of kisses and clothes — Lorelai hung back, curious as to where he was taking things this time, almost shy at the thought of being exposed — but not touched — after so long. As she'd noticed his grays, had he taken notice of the (more than a) few extra pints of Ben and Jerry's that had found their way to her lower half during some of the rough times with Chris? The extra wrinkles she was sure the stress of her doomed marriage had put on her face?

If he had, he paid them no mind; Luke eased himself down on the bed, inching backwards toward the head of the bed as he shoved pillows out of the way. Once he was situated, his back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him, he beckoned to Lorelai, reaching for her hand once more.

Though more flummoxed than ever, Lorelai obeyed, taking his hand and crawling on her knees to him. They'd had more than their fair share of escapades in that position, her on Luke's lap, but it was generally her show — those times when she was feeling particularly playful or precocious and Luke was content to be a bystander. But he'd already indicated that that wasn't his goal here, not today, not their first time back together.

"Luke, I don't…" She trailed off, her quizzical inquiry put to rest when Luke did, in fact, pull her to straddle his lap. A giggle escaped Lorelai's mouth at the unexpected move on Luke's part, "Luke, wha-"

Again she was cut off by Luke's mouth, his tongue dancing languorously with hers. Smiling into the kiss, Lorelai slid forward on Luke's thighs, trapping his erection between their midsections. Luke groaned into Lorelai's mouth, eliciting yet another giggle from her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him even closer. Luke's payback was to reach between them, slipping a finger into Lorelai without warning only to remove it far too soon.

"Mean," Lorelai glowered breathily, intending to pull away from Luke, but apparently her pout was merely an invitation for Luke to recapture her lower lip between his teeth.

Growing tired of what suddenly seemed like endless foreplay, Lorelai broke the kiss and lifted herself off Luke's legs. Kneeling above him, she reached for him, readying herself to take him in.

But once more, her efforts were thwarted by whatever it was Luke had in mind. Grasping at her legs, he refused to let her lower herself onto him; rather, he angled her back towards his knees, running his hands tenderly over her calves and resituating them behind him so that Lorelai's legs were wrapped around his waist. Behind her, he folded his legs up as well, so that she was sitting on his crossed legs. Only then did Luke lift her hips up, positioning himself beneath her.

Lorelai went limp, letting out a throaty "OhGodLuke" as he slid into her, easing her down onto him at an achingly slow pace. She gripped his shoulders, making every effort to remain perfectly still as her body readjusted to accommodate him; it was a feeling she wasn't ready to let go of.

But Luke's hands skimmed up her sides, coming to rest just beneath her breasts. Lorelai sucked in a sharp breath as his thumbs made contact with her already sensitive nipples. The sensation was overwhelming, and her hips bucked of their own accord as her body sought to ease some of the rapidly building tension within.

Their new position left her with very little leverage; whereas on her knees, the pace would have been hers to set, now all she could do was squirm helplessly atop Luke, weakly thrusting her hips towards his or pulling him to her as best she could by constricting her legs tightly around him. She whimpered aloud, begging for Luke move, to do something. He simply pressed his lips to hers, silencing her with a kiss as he placed his hands on her hips.

Guiding her movements on him, Luke settled their movements into a slow, sensual rhythm. Lorelai pulled away from the kiss, and her forehead dropped to his shoulder as, in the midst of their gentle rocking against each other, Luke let his thumb drift ever so slightly away from where it originally rested, gripping her hips. With each pitch forward of her hips, the thumb was perfectly positioned for just the slightest increase in pressure where it mattered most. That delicious friction in combination with the heady feeling of Luke's subtle motions within her was very nearly overwhelming.

Lorelai was silent for a few moments more as she let herself get lost in Luke again and her nails dug into his back as she fought to get as much of him as she could. Before long, she was biting her lip, her eyes fluttering closed as she found the wave of sensation that already threatened. After so many screw ups and wrong turns in their relationship, after so long apart, she was unwilling to let go, unwilling to have it be over so quickly.

"Luke…" she whispered in his ear as she fought to still her hips, "Luke…"

Without further words, Luke obliged her silent plea. After he pulled her into yet another fiery kiss, his hands abandoned her lower body and drifted upwards once more, teasing her already overly-sensitive nipples once more. Lorelai let out a guttural moan in response, yet again fighting off her body's reaction to his ministrations. "Luke…" she protested again.

This time, Luke allowed her to slide off him, easing her down to the pillows beside them. And though she'd initiated it, Lorelai whimpered at the initial loss of contact, and once situated on the bed, she immediately pulled him down to her. Her legs fell open as Luke settled his hips between them, and already needing his touch again, she threw her arms around his neck and sought out his lips with hers.

And though she writhed anxiously beneath him, Luke held back from sliding into her. Breaking their kiss, he propped himself up on his elbows and let his hands frame her face, his fingers tangling in her hair as it splayed out over the pillow.

Lorelai looked up at him, her eyes wide and questioning.

Gazing down at her, his voice gravelly as he spoke, Luke said simply, "God I love you."

Lorelai's view of Luke blurred almost immediately as tears sprang to her eyes. Her chest felt tight, and she couldn't be sure if it was regret over how horribly she'd treated him and all their lost time, or simply her heart swelling with the intensity of the emotion she felt for him. Her own voice shaky, she replied softly, "Me too. So much."

With that, Luke leaned down, kissed her fiercely, and reached down to guide himself into her.

Lorelai sucked in a quick breath at the feeling of Luke burying his full length in her. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting him closer, wanting that heightened connection between them.

They held onto that initial sensation for a moment, Lorelai's grip eventually loosening and Luke's pace evolved into long, full, sensuous strokes. Lorelai met him halfway each time, her hips bucking up to him of their own accord. Hands wandered, lips and tongues met, and before long, Lorelai was at the brink again, her senses heightened and the tension deep inside her building. Her breath came in short gasps and her hands fell from Luke's back to grip the sheets beside her.

Luke, she knew, must have been fighting as well, for as soon as she'd whimpered his name and given herself over to the impending wave of sensation, he'd reached between them to her center, caressing her and giving her the final push she needed to come crashing down around him.

She gave a strangled cry at his touch, and was lost. Everything inside her seemed to explode at once. She clenched down around him, riding out the staggering intensity of it all with incomprehensible moans and sighs as she felt Luke follow close behind.

Lorelai's legs had made their way back around his waist at some point, and now, after, she clung to him, still unwilling to let go. Coaxing him into lowering his upper body onto hers, she drew Luke into a slow, dreamy kiss.

For the rest of her life, she never wanted to move from exactly where she was.

When they finally parted, Luke slid off Lorelai, settling himself on the bed, with both of them on their sides as he spooned up behind her. With a deep sigh, he buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. He told himself he was just happy to have her there again and wanted to relish every bit of her, but he couldn't deny that there might have been a part of him that just wanted to use every sense that he possibly could to confirm that she was actually there with him again, and that it wasn't simply one of the many dreams of her that had haunted him since things had gone wrong.

He wasn't sure if he drifted to sleep or not, but the next thing he was aware of was a soft sniffling sound. Luke knew he'd seen the beginning of tears in her eyes earlier; he himself hadn't been unaffected by the power of their reunion.

But that had been in the heat of the moment, 'I love you's having just been uttered. But now?

"Hey, hey," he whispered soothingly. Sliding backwards a bit, he gently placed a hand on Lorelai's bare shoulder and wordlessly urged her to face him.

Sure enough, when she gave in and rolled onto her back, her eyes were rimmed with red and her cheeks damp with tears, though she was hastily trying to wipe them away. With another sniffle, she clenched her eyes closed and said, pained, "It's too soon."

Still not understanding the cause of the tears, Luke was left unable to utter anything but a baffled "What is-?"

"We shouldn't have-" Lorelai attempted to explain shakily. "This," she clarified, her voice growing stronger as she gestured vaguely down to their bodies. "It's too soon."

Recognizing Lorelai's insecurity and tendency to run rearing its ugly head and threatening to ruin what was, in all honesty, probably the best turn of events for him in recent memory, Luke protested immediately in an attempt to calm her down. "Lorelai, hey, come on," he started.

But he was cut off, his protest apparently serving only to strengthen Lorelai's determination. "No," she said, shaking her head vehemently as she sat up and moved to swing her feet down to the floor. "We shouldn't have done this."

Sitting up himself, Luke's hand shot out to grab her arm. "Hey," he said sternly, "first of all, would you stop? Why are you saying all this?"

Lorelai's face wrinkled as she conceded and placed her feet back on the bed, her resolve obviously crumbling. "Because it's too soon," she wailed, "and apparently I have the willpower of a 16 year old boy on Viagra, and I wasn't thinking, and it's just going to mess everything up." She finished contritely, her voice soft as she added, "It's too fast."

"Too fast for what?" Luke asked, already having a hunch where she was going with her reasoning.

"Us," she admitted, fiddling with her nails and unable to look him in the eyes. "I didn't want to screw this up again."

Luke nodded in acknowledgement, but he took a deep breath and assured her to the contrary. "It won't."

Lorelai jerked her head to face him. "You don't think it was too soon?" she asked, her voice tinged with doubt.

"No," Luke replied matter-of-factly.

"But…" she stumbled over her words, obviously fighting to put her rationale into a coherent sentence. "I… missed you, so much, and I…," she spluttered, "love you, and I wanted this so badly, but Luke," she insisted, more composed, "there was a _reason_ for us not working last time."

"I know that," Luke acknowledged solemnly, keeping his words to a minimum, preferring to let Lorelai work through things for herself.

Lorelai looked at him incredulously. "And that's not a problem for you?" she cried.

"Should it be?" he countered.

"We can't just-" Lorelai began to protest, before pausing in a search for words. "Fall back into this — back into bed!" she blurted out, "— without even _trying_ to change things. We're just gonna end up with the same problems. And I don't want that, this is what I was so afrai-"

In the midst of her tirade, Lorelai had again begun her move to creep out of bed, away from him, so once she reached the point of swinging her feet to the floor again, Luke cut in with a stern "Lorelai."

She was more steadfast this time; she did pause, but with her feet on the floor and her back to him. With a resolute shake of her head, she reiterated, "We shouldn't have done this. Not like this, not so soon."

More sternly this time, and reaching roughly for her arm, Luke repeated, "Lorelai."

She shrugged him off, though she remained on the bed. "What?" she asked, sounding exasperated as she turned her body around to face him.

"Hey, hey," Luke said, softening his approach, "calm down." Taking her decision to remain on the bed and actually look at him as a crack in her resolve, he slid across the mattress towards her and pulled her into a hug. "Come 'ere."

Lorelai conceded, letting herself be folded into his arms as she buried her face against his chest. "I don't want it to turn out like last time," she mumbled, her voice muffled against his skin.

Luke understood her point, but he was desperate to make her see that he honestly didn't feel they would have the same issues this time around. Releasing her from his embrace, he moved himself up the mattress until he sat with his back against the headboard and gestured for her to follow suit. After a second of hesitation, Lorelai crawled up beside him and slipped beneath the sheet.

Looking down at her, Luke asked frankly, "What do you think our problem was last time?"

Lorelai's gaze immediately shot up to meet his, a hint of panic evident in her eyes. "Luke…" she protested weakly.

"Tell me," he urged, giving her fabric-covered knee an encouraging rub.

She still hesitated, fidgeting uncomfortably and drawing the sheet up around her bare chest securely. "I think…" she eventually hedged. "Well," she finally said bluntly, "April."

Luke nodded his agreement, but remained quiet in hopes that she would expand.

Her gaze falling away from his once more, Lorelai did continue hesitantly. "You didn't tell me, and then later, you just kept her away, and…"

Knowing she was holding back, Luke prompted, "What else?"

"And it felt like you were pushing me away," she finally blurted out. "The wedding got postponed, and half the time it seemed like April and Anna were more important than anything that had to do with us."

Luke had known something of the sort was coming, though he made sure to point out, "Which you never really told me."

"Yeah," Lorelai said glumly, continuing on a sarcastic rant, "I never said anything. I just watched us self-destruct. And then I had to go and-"

"Ok, yeah, we know how that ends," Luke cut her off before making his own case. "But even before that, you and Rory?" he pointed out. "She was your thing to deal with? The going back to Yale and everything? You didn't let me in there. And I didn't push it. Maybe I should have," he acknowledged. "Maybe that's why I thought it was okay to keep April separate."

Though Lorelai didn't dispute his claims — rather, she appeared to consider them thoughtfully for a moment — she did pose the question, "How do you know it's all not gonna happen again?"

"I-"

Luke had barely gotten a breath out before Lorelai jumped back in. "Not with April and Rory, because, God, I hope you don't have any more kids running around out there that we don't know about, and if Rory bails on school again… But-"

It was Luke's turn to jump in, as he was unwilling to let Lorelai spin any tales of crazy possibilities in her head. "A)," he began plainly, "I won't let myself lose you again, and B) Think about it. You agree that our problems mostly came from not talking to each other? Not saying exactly what felt wrong when and hiding things? Even the first time at your parents' thing?"

"I guess," Lorelai conceded, though obviously unsure where he was leading.

Twisting his torso to face her directly, Luke took the opportunity to brush a wayward lock of hair tenderly from Lorelai's face. "What do you call what we've been doing at least once a week for the past five months?"

Confusion still tainting her features, Lorelai offered the answer she must have figured he was fishing for, "Talking?"

"About?" he led.

"April," Lorelai said first, before pausing for a moment. Luke could see the beginnings of realization setting in as she continued, "Rory. The restaurant. Chris..." she trailed off as she spoke her ex-husband's name, full comprehension of exactly how far they'd come to be able to talk about him more than plain on her face. "Everything," she finished with a mildly astonished whisper.

"Yeah," Luke agreed with a grin.

Lorelai remained quiet, numbly letting her own realization settle in.

But lest she work herself into a frenzy again, Luke reinforced his point. "I know we haven't dealt specifically with what happened," he admitted. "We should. And we will," he promised, when Lorelai caught his gaze at the end of his sentence. "But Lorelai," he asked, almost as a plea, "what else would you change?"

She took a breath as if to speak, but said nothing, her brow furrowing slightly instead. Finally, with a defeated grin, she shrugged, admitting honestly, "I wouldn't."

A grin of his own spread quickly on Luke's face, and the two of them leaned into each other, lips seeking lips automatically. Whatever he had left in him, Luke poured into the kiss, trying to convince her, if his words had not, that they would be fine.

A moment later, Lorelai pressed her palm against his chest and, breathing heavily, pushed him away. With a sly smirk, she traced lazy patterns over his torso and said coyly, "Actually, there is."

"Oh yeah?" Luke responded, his voice teasing, but the kiss he placed on her hand after removing it from his chest sincere.

Blushing at the simple gesture, Lorelai voiced her complaint plainly. "Seeing you once a week isn't enough."

Sliding down the headboard from his sitting position to rest his head on the pillows, Luke chuckled. "That can be fixed pretty easily."

"Good," Lorelai said, giving him a wan smile. Resituating herself so she was curled up against him, she poked his side softly. "Did you mean what you said in my office that day?"

"If you want it," Luke answered.

Lifting her head so their gazes met, Lorelai replied earnestly, "I do. Maybe not all of it at warp speed like we got here," she conceded with a smile, "but… April could have Gigi's bed."

"And me?" Luke kept his voice light, meaning for it to be a teasing comment.

"We can move," she said hurriedly, "if you don't-"

Luke silenced her with a finger placed on her lips. "You don't have to move," he insisted. "You don't _want_ to move. We've been here before," he reminded her.

"Yeah, but-" she protested.

"We can redecorate," he compromised, still not letting her finish. "Again," he rephrased with a grin. "New paint, new furniture, whatever you wa-"

Lorelai eyed him skeptically. "You _really_ want to go through picking paint colors again?" she teased.

Luke shrugged playfully, "Well, I do remember seeing some purple wallpaper somewhere…"

"Really?" Lorelai gasped, her eyes lighting up.

Luke rolled his eyes, reconsidering. "We'll see-" He stopped when he felt a heavy weight on his feet. "What the-?" He peered down the bed, kicking a bit, only to see Paul Anka sitting in the middle of the bed, staring right back at him. "Jeez," he groaned, "he was here the whole time?"

"Yup," Lorelai giggled, reaching down to give the dog a scratch on the head, "we just scarred him for life. Or, well, I don't know," she added, smirking in Luke's direction, "he looks pretty happy, maybe he liked the show."

Luke rolled his eyes dramatically, "Aw, Jee-"

"Oh stop," Lorelai laughed, slapping his leg playfully, "he was asleep. He's just happy because he missed you too."

"He's seen me every week," Luke scoffed.

"He still missed you," Lorelai insisted, though Luke now realized she might not have been talking about the dog.

Paul Anka curled up near their feet, the two of them wrapped in each other's arms as their lips met yet again, Luke couldn't help but think how much better things were looking.

**The End**

_Why are you weeping?  
Yes, I still love you.  
We fight and fall down  
And mend._  
Jann Arden, "Mend"

Epilogue and original ficathon requests still to come. Stay tuned.


	12. Epilogue: Wednesday, some time later

**Thanks to everyone who stuck with me and left wonderful reviews despite me going AWOL from time to time. I think this is actually the longest fic I've ever seen through to a conclusion, so hopefully it was worth the effort and that you all enjoyed it :)**

Apologies to _cassievalentine_ for taking an eternity to finish the ficathon request she had forever ago! Her original requests are at the end.

And thanks to _Filo_ for taking over the beta role halfway through, and for doing it well.

Wednesday, some time later…

Paul Anka was not happy. A happy doggie he was not.

He really had to pee.

This whole Mom and Dad thing was really great and all — he got his hamburgers, and Dad liked sitting in the chair better than in Paul Anka's spot on the couch, which was now conveniently Annoying-Couch-Guy-free, and the Monster wasn't living in Sugartoes' room anymore, and Dad got Mom to walk outside more, which meant that Paul Anka got more walks too — but seriously, that stuff hardly mattered when you had to pee.

Normally Dad was really good about letting him out. Dad still had early deliveries to get most of the time, so he'd let Paul Anka out in the morning before he left. Days like that were good.

Sugartoes let him out in the mornings too, whenever she was there. (That was probably mostly because one time when she didn't let him out, she was the one who accidentally stepped in the puddle he'd been forced to make on the floor outside her door. Not-so-Sugartoes anymore… After that, she always let Paul Anka out in the morning.)

And, of course, there was Other Sugartoes. Or New Sugartoes. Paul Anka really didn't know what to call her, but Mom had made sure she had sugar toes the first time he'd met her too, when Dad brought her over, just like Sugartoes. Other Sugartoes lived in Sugartoes' room sometimes now too, but Paul Anka definitely liked her better than the Evil Tail-Pulling Monster that used to live there. Other Sugartoes never pulled his tail and she always let him out to pee. Actually, she even seemed more excited than Mom, Dad, or Sugartoes about letting him out — something about tracking his excretion schedules for research. Whatever that meant.

Unfortunately, neither one of the Sugartoes were home.

Mom was home. Dad was home. Which was normally a good thing. Normally, Mom and Dad would come home at night, let Paul Anka out, have dinner — hamburgers (rare-plus) and broccoli (but not peas) for Paul Anka, then watch TV (Paul Anka always still had his spot on the couch because Mom usually just sat on Dad). And then they'd all go upstairs and Paul Anka could sleep on Mom and Dad's bed on their feet. The next morning, Dad would get up and let Paul Anka out and then make Mom some of the stuff in the cup that smelled good. (Actually, Dad hadn't been letting Mom have the stuff in the cup lately — Paul Anka was pretty sure it was punishment for Mom getting fat. Her stomach was getting really big, and when Paul Anka had started to get fat, Mom and Dad wouldn't let him have cookies anymore, so maybe the stuff in the cup was like cookies for Mom. Paul Anka didn't really mind that though — he never did like seeing Mom drink anything…). But even though Dad didn't make Mom the good-smelling cup stuff anymore, he usually still let Paul Anka out in the morning!

Last night though, Paul Anka got kicked out of bed when he tried to jump up on Mom and Dad's feet. Then Mom and Dad closed the door and did whatever it was they did that made them get loud and make weird noises. Even that was normally okay — you know, with the whole no Couch Guy thing and the permanent spot for Paul Anka on the couch. And Dad would still get up to let him out on most mornings after the weird noises.

Not this morning though. Poor Paul Anka woke up on the couch, all ready for Dad to come downstairs, and then he'd heard the weird noises. Again! Didn't they know he had to pee?

Paul Anka tried doing a little dance — sometimes that helped make him not have to pee anymore.

It didn't help.

He tried running around in a circle.

That didn't help either.

Technically, he could always go for the puddle option, but he always got yelled at for that, which wasn't much fun.

Ok, he was going to have to just go get Mom and Dad.

Paul Anka scampered up the stairs and over to the (still closed!) door of Mom and Dad's room. He scratched it a little. Nothing. Still just the noises. No wonder they couldn't hear the scratching. He tried it again, louder this time. Still nothing.

It was starting to look more and more like it was going to have to be a puddle morning.

There really was only one other thing Paul Anka could try. So he started barking. Maybe that would be loud enough.

Sure enough, just a couple barks in, the noises in Mom and Dad's room stopped, and Paul Anka was sure he could hear Dad's voice by itself. He sounded kind of mad. Oops. It sounded like he was yelling at Mom, saying something like _he's** your** dog_. Which was just silly, because Paul Anka was Mom _and_ Dad's.

But that didn't really matter anyway, because soon, Mom was there! She was smiling and sounded a lot happier than Dad did, even though she kind of looked like Dad because she was wearing one of his shirts. She just laughed and told Paul Anka that she was very sorry and that he'd probably understand a little better if they hadn't gotten him snipped. Paul Anka didn't really know what all that meant, but right then he didn't really care. He was going to go outside! He could pee!

Mom must have known how bad he had to pee, because she clipped on the long leash really fast and shoved him out the back door into the yard so Paul Anka wouldn't have to wait for her to put pants and shoes on.

Finally Paul Anka got to pee! And boy, did it feel good. He'd been holding it a long time. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure if he had gotten to pee before bed last night or if Mom and Dad had skipped letting him out and just went right to making noises. Well, that was rude.

Mom was actually being pretty rude now too — Paul Anka had barely finished peeing when she was pulling really hard on his leash to get him back inside. And then once he did get inside, she took the leash off again really fast, and didn't even give him a pat on the head before she ran away.

By the time Paul Anka made it through the kitchen to the living room, Mom was long gone, and he was pretty sure he could already hear noises from upstairs again.

Oh well. At least he'd gotten to pee without having to make a puddle.

Since Mom and Dad were otherwise occupied, Paul Anka hopped back up to his spot on the couch, stretched out his paws, let out a yawn, and curled back up to catch some more z's.

So he didn't always get to go out right when he wanted to. But Couch Guy was gone, the Monster was gone, he had a new Sugartoes, and Dad was back. Which meant that both Mom and Dad were pretty happy most of the time. (Even though Mom was getting a little fat and she couldn't have the stuff in the cup!) And if Mom and Dad were happy, so was Paul Anka.

Plus he was pretty sure the noises couldn't go on forever and that Dad would be down to make him some scrambled eggs eventually. With cheese.

Yup, Paul Anka decided as he snuggled down into the couch cushion, life was good.

Written for: **cassievalentine** and the L/L Reunion (Smut)Ficathon  
Three things you'd like to see: Paul Anka (the dog); Luke and Lorelai getting everything out on the table, no holds barred; they come to an understanding about April.  
Three things you don't want to see: No unnecessary Christopher-bashing (no bashing just becuase you hate the character); no quick fixes; no making Anna a horrible person.

_Not sure how well the story actually ended up fulfilling those requests… Here's hoping you liked it anyway :)_


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